Neville in the spot
by Iamthe42
Summary: What if Voldemort attacked Neville instead of Harry? What if it was Alice and Frank who died, and James and Lily lived? This is the story where Neville is 'the boy who lived'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **Hi, I'm starting this story, ( ok that is obvious...) and I will try to update as often as possible, but I leave no garantees, I have a lot of school and volletball practices that has to come first. I'm starting off in Harry's point od view, because that is what comes most naturly to me, but I will try to change the perspective to many different characters. Please, read and review, it will make my day (:

Chapter 1: The Train and Houses

Platform 93/4 was crowded with people from all over the country, people of all sizes, shapes and appearance stood on the platform. Parents hugging their children goodbye, new Hogwarts students looking nervous but excited, carrying big trunks containing clothes, books and other things they would need during the semester, older students who had been there before, and who were confident in their knowledge. There were a few siblings who were either too old or too young to attend Hogwarts who waved their goodbyes to their older or younger brothers and sisters. Some of the younger siblings cried that they wanted to go to Hogwarts too, and parents comforted them, telling them that they would get their chance in time. There were also some families who did not seem to belong there. They were wearing different clothes, and they kept looking around with awe or fright at the wizards and witches all around them. They were muggles who had a son or daughter at Hogwarts.

Right in the middle in the mess of people stood Harry Potter with his parents James and Lily and his younger siblings Henric and Sarah. He had just turned eleven a couple of weeks earlier, and was eager to start his first year at was screaming at the top of her lungs that she wanted to go to Hogwarts too, and Lily tried to calm her down, saying that it was only one more year, and that she had her twin to play with. Henric on the other side looked wistfully at the Hogwarts express, clearly wishing he was there, but not complaining. He knew that he was too young, and nothing he could say or do would change that fact, so he was resigned to wait.

Beside them stood Neville Longbottom and his grandmother. Neville was one of Harry's friends, and would often come over to their home in Godric's hollow. Neville's parents had been murdered by Lord Voldemort ten years ago, and ever since then he had lived with his grandmother. Neville was famous for being the only one who had ever survived the killing curse, but it was not something he was proud of since he was only a few months old when it happened, and he had no memory of it.

Harry tried not to pity his friend for the loss of his parents, because he knew that it would not be appreciated by the other boy. Instead, he treated Neville as a person, no different from anyone else, for he knew that that is how he would have wanted to be treated if their roles had been reversed.

The train whistle blew, and suddenly, everyone was in a hurry to get on the train. James helped Harry and Neville to carry their heavy trunks on board the train. They said their last goodbyes and then the train started moving, leaving the platform.

"Come on, lets find a compartment to sit in." Harry said, and him and Neville started to walk towards the end of the train, stopping at every compartment to see if they could sit there. Almost everywhere was full, but near the end they found an empty compartment and sat down.

"Do you think you'll miss home?" Neville asked. " Probably a bit, but Hogwarts is supposed to be great, and we will make lots of friends, so I don't know how much time we will have to miss home." Harry answered. "Besides, we'll finally get to learn magic!" he added cheerfully. He had been eager to learn magic ever since he was little and realised that his parents could do all sorts of cool things with a wand. "I guess so." Neville said, clearly not as certain as Harry that they were going to have a good time. "I'm just worried about what people will think of me. They probably expect me to be some kind of hero, but I'm just me." he finished weakly. "Maybe..." Harry started to say, but was interrupted but but a boy poking his head in the compartment. The boy had vivid red hair, bushy eyebrows and an uncertain look about him. His clothes seemed to have been passed down from older siblings and he had dirt on the side of his nose.

"Do you mind if I sit here? Practically everywhere else is full." he said looking at Harry and Neville. "Sure that's no problem." Harry said, looking meaningfully at Neville. "I'm Harry and this is Neville." he added as an afterthought. "I'm Ron... are you two first years too?" the red haired boy asked, seeming to hope for a yes. "Sure." said Neville, comforted by the fact that Ron hadn't recognized him right away.

Ron put his heavy-looking trunk under the seats and took his place beside Harry. The silence seemed to stretch thin as they could her talking and laughing from the other compartments. "So, have you thought a lot about it? What it will be like at Hogwarts I mean?" Harry finally said, to lighten up the mood. "Yeah, of course I have, I mean it's a pretty big thing, right? I have older brothers who attends Hogwarts, and they've told me loads stuff,but I don't know how much I should believe." Ron answered, seemingly happy that someone else had broken the awkward silence first. "They like to joke, and they tease just about everyone" he answered in a rush, looking as if he thought he had said too much."You have older brothers? Cool! I only have a younger brother and sister. They're jealous of me because they have to wait another year before they can go to Hogwarts." Harry said with a smirk. "I don't have any siblings." Neville put in, feeling the need to say something.

Ron glanced at him, and suddenly looked as if his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. "You're him, aren't you?" he exclaimed. "You're Neville Longbottom, the boy who lived!" Neville wanted to shrink through the floor, and all he managed to say was a feeble "Yes". Ron, not noticing that Neville was uncomfortable, asked "Do you have the- the scar?" finishing in a near whisper.

Neville nodded and flipped his hair to the side to reveal his lightning bolt shaped scar in the middle of his forehead. He had gotten it when Voldemort had tried to kill him when he was but an infant. "Wicked!" Ron said. He was just about to say something more when they heard a loud noise from Nevilles trunk.

"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed and immediately moved to take out his toad, and put it in his lap. He had forgotten that it was there until it had announced itself.

After that he grew more confident, as well as comfortable, especially when it became obvious that Ron wasn't going ask to any more questions concerning his fame or his parents. The hours rushed past, and they talked amiably the whole way. When the cart with candy came, it became obvious that Ron didn't have a lot of money, and felt embarrassed by it, but Harry quickly fixed matters by buying enough for all three of them and pleasantly told the others to help themselves to whatever they wanted. Ron had brought sandwiches from home, but they soon lay forgotten on the floor. After a few hours, when they had finished eating the last of the sweets, they decided that it was time to change into their robes, and only a few minutes later, the train glided to a halt. They had arrived at Hogwarts at last.

The platform was abuzz with people getting of the train, and at first Harry, Neville and Ron thought to just follow the older students, who were walking towards some carriages, but then they heard the booming voice belonging to a man so big he could only be Hagrid. "Firs' years to me!" and they went to him instead. "You must be Hagrid." Harry said when they were closer. "Tha's me, and ye're...?" the giant of a man answered. "Harry Potter" Harry answered, having to bend his head almost straight up to meet Hagrids eyes. "A Potter are ye? Who're yer friends?" he asked. "I'm Ron Weasley" said Ron with a smile. "Another Weasley? Suppose I Shoulda' known by the hair."Hagrid answered in his booming voice.

In the short silence that fell afterwards it was clear that Hagrid expected Neville to introduce himself, but he was too shy to do it in the middle of a crowd. "This is Neville." Harry said at last, 'forgetting' the last name on purpose so that people who were around them talking wouldn't hear the name and turn to look.

"Well come along then, ALL FIRS' YEARS FOLLOW ME!" He shouted over the noise of people leaving, talking and laughing all the way. He walked towards a big lake, and they all followed. They quickly noticed the boats that lay on the shore, and understood that they were going to go by boat to the castle they could see on the other side of the lake. The castle looked very imposing as it stood in the distance, dwarfing all buildings they had ever seen by comparison. It was a magnificent silhouette against the pale sky painted a smooth orange colour by the setting sun.

"On'y four to a boat!" Hagrid roared as they started to climb into the boats. Harry, Ron and Neville shared their boat with a girl with brown, curly hair, bushy eyebrows and large front teeth, named Hermione Granger. She quickly pointed out that Ron had dirt on his nose to his great annoyance. All the boats had four people in them except for the boat that only carried Hagrid. Harry supposed that Hagrid probably weighed as much as four of them boats were spelled, so all Hagrid had to do was shout "FORWARD!" and the boats started moving. Harry's first impression of the girl, Hermione, was that she was a little bossy but she seemed to be alright. She told them a number of facts about the castle and the surrounding area referring to a book called 'Hogwarts- a history' that she said they all should read.

Ron sulked the whole way after the episode with the dirt and didn't join in the conversation at all. After a few minutes Hermione exclaimed "Oh my god, you're Neville Longbottom!" to Neville, who was very uncomfortable and tried to slip further back in the boat, even though he was already sitting at the far back of the boat. Harry was almost afraid he might fall into the water if he tried to move further back.

"I've read about you in 'A recent history of Wizards'." Harry, noticing his friend's reaction, quickly changed the subject to quidditch. Neville cast him an appreciative glance and joined the conversation again. Even Ron had a few things to say, it was his favourite sport in the world after all, but Hermione and Neville only talked because it was the polite thing to do. Neither of them had any interest in quidditch, Neville because he was such a poor flier and Hermione because she considered it a waste of time that could be spent reading or such.

After only a few minutes, they were on the other side, staring up at the castle that would be their home for the next seven years. Harry took a deep breath and climbed out of the boat, followed by Ron, Hermione and lastly Neville.

They were lead to a great gate, and through two massive double doors into the castle proper. Hagrid continued, with the first years close behind, through corridors with paintings on the walls. Many of the painting's occupants waved and happily welcomed them to Hogwarts, but some seemed to think that mare first years were too far below them to be worthy of their notice, let alone first years who hadn't even had their first lesson in magic yet. There were suits of armor, reflecting the dim light from the various magical candles and torches, standing tall and proud as if they were waiting for a command to defend the castle. There were staircases so large that Harry reasoned at least half his house must be able to fit in them and then some.

At the top of one of those staircases, the unlucky people who were walking last got a nasty surprise when ghosts came floating up the stairs. They were a gray colour, as if they were a black and white version of the people they had been. Harry knew of course that the ghosts were harmless, but some of the muggleborns squealed and pressed to the walls hoping to escape notice. One of the ghosts said "We should give him a second chance, forgive and forget, that is the way to maintain civilisation." to one of the other ghosts, who didn't seem to agree with that statement. "And how many chances have we already given him? He will not change, I say we must make him leave the school. If he cannot abide by the rules, which he has proven time and time again, then he cannot be allowed to stay." the second ghost answered in what was obviously an old british dialect. They continued to argue as they came closer to the group of people, as if they did not realise they were there.

A strange cat caught Harry's attention as it glided up the stairs to stand in front of the group. Suddenly, the cat turned into a severe-looking witch with iron gray hair tied up in a tight, precise knot in her neck. She had glasses that matched the markings the cat had had around the eyes exactly. Harry knew at once that she must be an animagus, a witch who can turn into a specific animal at will. Harry was quite familiar with animagi since his father and two of his father's best friends were animagi themselves. "Listen up everyone!" the animagus said with a tone of authority. Harry immediately knew that he did not want to cross this woman, she seemed capable of giving out any punishment to those who needed to learn the rules. However, she also struck Harry as someone who would listen and judge fairly.

"I am professor Mcgonagall, and I will be your transfiguration teacher" she said and Harry thought that he should have guessed as much considering that becoming an animagus was advanced transfiguration."You are soon going to enter the great hall, where you will be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor" Harry and Neville looked at each other and silently promised that they would both end up in Gryffindor, just like their fathers. "Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. While you are at Hogwarts, your house will be your family. Your triumphs will earn your house points. Any rule breaking will result in you losing points. The house with the most points at the end of the year will get the house cup. I sincerely hope that each of you will be an asset to your house." Mcgonagall said, starting to unroll a piece of parchment that she had kept in a pocket in her flowing, black robes.

Hagrid opened the gigantic doors, and they went through into the great hall. All of the older students had already taken their seats at their respective house tables. The first years were lead forward between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables until they stood at the edge of the platform where the staff table was located. On the platform, there was a single chair with an old looking, brown hat on top. Behind him, Harry heard Hermione whispering to the girl beside her "the roof is magical, it shows the weather as it is outside, I read it in 'Hogwarts a history'."

Harry looked up for the first time and saw that the roof did indeed look like the weather outside, or at least what it had looked like a few minutes ago before he had entered the castle. Mcgonagall called for their attention again and Harry reluctantly complied and tore his eyes away from the wonders of the room to instead look at her. "When I call your name, you will walk up to the chair and place the sorting hat on your head. It will then decide which house you belong in." "All we have to do is put on that hat?" Ron said with a tone of relief and annoyance at the same time. "I'm going to kill Fred, he was going on about fighting a troll..." he trailed off as Mcgonagall began reading from her list of names. Harry was only half paying attention as he looked around the room, knowing that 'Potter' would be way down on the list.

o

"Granger, Hermione!" Mcgonagall called and Hermione started walking up to the sorting hat. She had never been so nervous in her entire life as when she placed the hat on her head, the entire school looking at her, wanting to know where she belonged. What if she didn't fit in anywhere, just like in her muggle school? What if she just got sorted into a house because she had to be somewhere? She could imagine what the hat would say, Oh, you are a strange one, you don't fit anywhere! I will have to place you in Hufflepuff because I haven't placed anyone there yet..."

Instead, the words she heard were"Ah, a great mind I see, a lot of courage too, you could do well in both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. However, I think you will find more people like you in RAVENCLAW!" only the last word was shouted so everyone could hear. She happily bounced off her seat and took off the sorting hat as the Ravenclaws erupted in applause. The hat had said that she would do both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor! Maybe, she could finally find good friends here, in the house where everyone was supposed to be brainy and study a lot. Maybe she had finally found the place where she belonged.

She went to sit next to an older student, who clapped her on the shoulder and welcomed her to Ravenclaw. Only a few names later, Neville's name was called. He looked just as nervous as she had been when she was up there, but this time, everyone's full attention was on the platform. There was a sudden hush and then a fountain of whispers as everyone craned their necks for a better view, trying to confirm if it was the Neville Longbottom, the boy who lived. Neville had the hat on only for a moment, surely much shorter a time than she had had it on, and then the hat bellowed "GRYFFINDOR!" and the table furthest away from Hermione's table burst into thundering applause and general cheering, much higher than for anyone else. She heard two redheaded boys who were so similar that they had to be twins shouting "We got Longbottom! We got Longbottom!" at the top of their lungs.

She was happy for Neville, it was obvious that he had gotten the house he wanted. He jumped from his seat and forgot to take off the sorting hat, so he had to go and put it back in it's chair to general laughter. Well, Hermione thought, they'll either think him stupid or funny, but neither is probably true. He must have been twice as nervous as I was when I walked up there, at least no one knows my name.

o

Harry watched Neville be sorted into Gryffindor, clapping eagerly for his friend. He was happy that Neville got what he wanted, maybe that would make him stop doubting himself so much in the future. He was a bit sad that Hermione wasn't in Gryffindor, she seemed like a really nice person, but interhouse friendships were usually few and not very strong nor long lasting, or at least that was the impression he had gotten from his father and Sirius. His mother had tried to be friends with Snape, even though they were in different houses, but that hadn't worked out in the end.

A few names later, Harry's name was called and he went up on the platform and put on the sorting hat. He was only a bit nervous, he was sure that he would get into Gryffindor, so he could afford to smile. He heard the hat's voice in his head "Ah, a lot of courage I see, and a thirst to prove yourself. Not a bad mind either, you could do well in many houses. It better be SLYTHERIN!" Harry froze and looked around, confused. Had the hat just said that he was in Slytherin? How could that be possible? Everything seemed to go in slow motion as he rose and went to sit at the cheering table with the green ornaments. He sat dazed in a chair and stared forward on nothing in particular. He was in Slytherin, he was in Slytherin! What had he done wrong? How could he not have been sorted into Gryffindor? He had been so sure, and then the sorting hat had begun by calling him brave...

Suddenly, everyone went quiet as Dumbledore rose to hold his speech. Harry was awakened from his deep thinking by the headmaster's clear voice resounding in the great hall. "To all first years: welcome to Hogwarts, and to all older students, welcome back! I shall not delay your meal any further, so I will say only this: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Dumbledore sat down again and food appeared on the tables. The older students begun eating right away, but some of the first years were startled by the sudden variety of food standing before their eyes. Harry, realising how hungry he was after only eating candy for lunch, dug in on the boiled potatoes and grilled chicken. "That is one of the weirdest things I've ever heard someone say. Is Dumbledore entirely sane?" asked a blond first year who sat next to Harry, her name had been somewhere in the beginning, but Harry could not remember what it was. David perhaps? She had blue, narrow eyes and a big nose. Her thin lips were smiling, and that seemed to be har natural expression. "Well, no one can be too sure, Dumbledore has always been on the odd side, but my parents think that he is brilliant." Harry answered her, trying to force a smile. By the girl's expression, it came out more as a grimace or a sneer. "I'm Harry, by the way, Harry Potter." he added, hoping to redeem himself somewhat in her eyes. If he was going to be in Slytherin, and he saw no way out of it now, then he had to wake some Slytherin friends. This girl didn't seem like such a bad choice. "I'm Tracey Davis." the girl answered politely.

Once they had eaten as much as they could, Dumbledore rose again to speak. " I hope you enjoyed the feast. I would like to welcome our newest addition to the staff, professor Quirrell! He is going to teach you defence against the dark arts. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch has reminded me to inform you that it is forbidden to perform magic in the corridors. Our new students ought to know that the forbidden forest is just that: forbidden! Some of our older students ought to remember it too." he said with a twinkle in his eyes, looking at the Gryffindor table. "I would also like to tell you that the corridor on the third floor to the right is off limits to anyone who does not wish to die a painful death." he paused as if in thought, and whispers could be heard throughout the great hall. What was it that was so deadly and sekret that Dumbledore wouldn't even tell them what it was? "It's late, you should be in bed. Tut, tut." and with those final words, Dumbledore finished his speech and went back to the staff table. The students started buzzing again as everyone left their places and started walk towards the common rooms. "First years, follow me!" an older Slytherin, presumably a prefect, said in a clear voice, easily cutting through the noise of all the people leaving. Harry and Tracey got up and followed along with the rest of the first years. Harry had gotten to know Tracey a bit more during the feast, he had scarcely said two words to anyone else. He had found her to be a polite and happy girl, and he thought that he could be friends with her.

A/N So, the first chapter... was it good? Please, tell me (=

By the way, all the characters are real, though some may not be mensioned in the books. (I've done my homework...)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N If you are reading this, I'm happy because it means that you've already read my first chapter and wanted to read the next one, yay(:**

**I know that I'm a bit overenthusiastic, but this is my first story so... anyway here is chapter 2(=**

**I've updated it with a bit more space just so you know...**

chapter 2: First day

Harry and the other Slytherin first years followed the prefect down to the dungeons. The air was chilly even though the weather outside was relatively warm. Harry supposed that the warmth of outside never reached this far down in the castle. At last they arrived at a black door that looked no different from the other doors they had passed in the tunnels of the dungeon.

The prefect said "Okay, listen up everyone! I hope you know the way down here now, because I'm not showing you again. The password is 'pureblood', so you should all be able to remember." with an obvious sneer in his voice. As he said 'pureblood', the door swung inwards to reveal a rather large, low-ceilinged room. It reminded Harry strongly of a dungeon, and the lamps and chairs were a greenish colour that didn't look healthy. All and all, it looked like the den of a monster, waiting to capture some innocent child and eat it for dinner. Harry was horrified as he realised that this was a place he was going to spent a lot of time in, doing his homeworks or simply talking to his friends.

"Boys, you'll find your dormitories on the second door to the left, girls, the same to your right." the prefect said pointing towards a tunnel leading into the darkness."Your belongings have already been moved for you." he finished and then he turned to leave, probably to go talk to his friends.

"Well, I guess we better check the dormitories out." Harry said with a sigh and him and Tracey started walking in the direction that the prefect had pointed out. They found the doors, identical to the one that lead into the common room, and walked in in silence.

The room was divided into two identical rooms by a wall cutting across the entire room. Harry choose the room to the right and looked at the beds. They were quite large, and had wooden posts painted in the same greenish colour as the lamps and chairs in the common room. Each had a trunk on the side, standing neatly in straight lines to minimize the space used and make it look orderly. Harry immediately recognized the trunk next to the bed on the far side of the room as his own. He went over and took off his shoes before trying the bed. It was soft, the thick blanket laid just so, and the pillow was properly fluffed up. He realised that if nothing else, at least his bed was a good one.

"Hi, I'm Blaise Zabini." Harry looked up and saw a tall, asian boy who had long, slanting eyes and high cheekbones. His black robes touched the ground as he bent over his trunk to pick up a book.

"I'm Harry Potter." Harry answered in an even tone of voice. "So I guess that we are going to be roomies for the next couple of years?" Harry added as he had nothing better to say, and the other boy didn't seem to need to fill the silence.

"Yeah, you, me and Theodore Nott. I talked to him on the train." Blaise answered politely and then proceeded to sit on his bed and start reading that book he had just taken from his trunk.

"What are you reading?" Harry asked, actually interested in the answer, they were going to sleep in the same room for the next seven years after all.

"Oh, it's just the potions book. I like to get a head start to make sure that I won't fall behind in the beginning of the year." Blaise said matter of factly. Apparently, he was the kind of guy who studied a lot and got good decided to take a small risk.

"Really? You don't strike me as a guy who would ever get behind in schoolwork."

"I suppose not." Blaise said, marking his place in the book with a bookmark, but putting it away. A third guy, presumably Theodore Nott, entered and went to the last bed.

"Hi, are you Theodore?" Harry said cheerfully, looking at the boy. He was of average height, and built powerfully for an eleven-year-old. his hair was long and dirty blonde. His eyes were grey, but not as cold as they might have been with that colour, and had a playful, innocent air about him that didn't seem to be entirely truthful with those eyes. They could have been colder, but they were not the eyes of a young boy, they looked much older.

"Yeah, that's me, how do you know my name?" he answered in suspicious tone, definitely not used to people he doesn't know greeting him in a friendly manner.

"I told him." Blaise cut in, trying to smooth over the situation.

"I'm Harry Potter, we three are going to be roommates for the next years." Harry explained as if it wasn't already obvious, minus the name part of course. They began talking for real, and Harry discovered that Theodore was fun and rather friendly underneath the hard outer shell. They ended up talking until it was time to go to sleep, as Blaise reminded them, they had school tomorrow, and didn't want to come to the first day of school tired and slow of thought.

o

The next morning, Hermione woke early to get to breakfast in plenty of time. She was still thrilled about the fact that her house was so friendly with her. She had talked to two girls in her own age, Su Li, an asian girl with rather large eyes and a big smile, and Lisa Turpin, a blonde who was muggleborn like herself.  
She knew that navigating through Hogwarts was difficult, but she had found an excellent map, and had been studying it on the Hogwarts Express. She checked it one last time before starting the descent of the Ravenclaw tower. The common room was located at the top, so there were quite a few stairs to descend before she reached the bottom floor and started making her way east, towards the great hall.

When she finally reached it, (it took her longer than she remembered it taking getting there, she had to find a faster route to save time) there were only a few people who were eating. She went to the Ravenclaw table and ate her share of toast and drank tea. She talked to some of the older students, asking about the classes, and a quicker route to the common room. They were happy to tell her the answers to all her questions, and one of them, a fourth year named Penelope Clearwater showed her a way on her map that saved her loads of time walking to the great hall, because she didn't need to go down all the way only to have to climb up some stairs later. She was thankful that the older students were so kind to her, and when Lisa and Su came down to have their breakfast, they found her talking amiably with everyone around her. Hermione was quite shocked to find that she had no problem talking to the Ravenclaws, and even though many of them had hobbies and interests that were strange to her, she found that she had much in common with them.

They were given their schedules, and then they were off to their first lesson, Defence against the dark arts, with professor Quirrell. He was a rather short, odd man with a turban covering the better part of his head, and stuttered a lot. He started off telling everyone to take out their books. The book for defence against the dark arts was leatherbound, and had the title 'The dark forces: a guide to self-protection' written on bold letters on the front. Hermione, having already read more than half the book, was content to skim through the pages professor Quirrell had told them to read. She just wanted to make sure that she hadn't missed or forgotten something, because sometimes it was the small things that made the difference. One of the Hufflepuffs, whom they had the class with, complained that they had to read and 'have a real lesson' their first day, but most people seemed just as eager as Hermione to learn magic.

o

Ron was one of the later people to arrive in the great hall, having not fully realised how hard it would be to navigate in the labyrinth of corridors, moving stairs and hallways that was Hogwarts. He had had to spent the better part of half an hour to find the great hall, and when he did, he was famished. He sat down next to Neville, who had gone earlier with a couple of older students who knew the way, and began wolfing down toast and scrambled eggs at an alarming speed. He listened to what the others around the table had to say, but he had his mouth full of food all the time, making him unable to contribute to the conversation. After his third helping of eggs and at least four toasts, he was finally full. Fred joked that he would eat until he died if he had enough time. Ron harrumphed and turned to Neville, who was checking the schedule they had gotten by professor Mcgonagall only moments before.

"We have potions with the Slytherins' first thing, then it's a double transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs and Charms with the Ravenclaws." Neville said, scanning his schedule intently for any clues as to how to get to the classrooms. There were none, of course.

"We've got the first lesson with the Slytherins? And with the Slytherin head of house to top it off? This is going to be a great morning." Ron complained as they rose to start finding the way down to the dungeons where the potions classroom was located. "Can't you give us directions?" Ron asked Percy, not trusting Fred and George not to direct him in the opposite way of the potions classroom.

"Sure, just follow the corridor until you see the suit of armor next to the portrait of a child playing in a garden. Then turn right and follow the stairs down 'til you can't get any further and then look for a green door. That is the potions door." Percy said, "It's quite easy, really." he added, as if that made Ron worse for asking. Ron thanked Percy and they started walking.

"Hey, do you know the way to the potions classroom?" came a voice from behind them. It turned out to be Dean Thomas with Seamus Finnigan in toe. They had sat further down the Gryffindor table, and had apparently not heard Percy's directions.

"Well, we did get the directions, how difficult could it possibly be?" Ron said with a smile, and they started walking down the corridor to the right.

When they had descended all the stairs, and there were a lot of them, they began searching for the green door. There were several times when they could make a turn, but they continued straight, hoping that Percy would have mentioned any turns they'd have to had almost given up hope of finding the green door, when it finally popped up right in front of them.

There were a lot of Slytherins already waiting, but there was no sign that Snape was there, so they weren't late at least. Ron noticed Harry talking amiably with a tall, asian Slytherin. Somehow, that made it worse. Ron didn't know Harry, but he had been sure that they would be fellow Gryffindors, and Neville had confided that he too thought that Harry would be in Gryffindor. Neville had known Harry for a long time, so he should have known what he was talking about.

And there Harry stood, a Slytherin, and befriending Slytherins before the first class had even started. If he had been alone, and distanced himself from his house, it would somehow have been better. Then at least, it would have shown that he didn't want to be a Slytherin. Ron was feeling betrayed by this person he thought could be his friend.

o

Harry was standing outside the potions classroom, talking to Blaise. They had both already read a big portion of the potions book, and were discussing the details of how to make a simple sleeping draught when professor Snape came, ushering everyone through the green door and into the dark potions classroom. As soon as they saw him, everyone fell quiet, knowing already that they would not like to get on this wizard's bad side. Everyone took a seat, and Harry sat at the same table as Blaise, Theodore and Tracey.

"There will be no foolish wand waving in this classroom." Snape said in a slow, menacing voice. He went on to say that his subject of potions was the hardest and most precise subject they would have. "Longbottom, our new celerity." he said in a clearly distasteful voice. "What would I get if I added powdered root of aspodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Neville, looking frightened and completely clueless said "I don't know, sir." in an unsteady voice.

"Pity, let's try another one. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar, Longbottom?"

"I, I don't know sir." Neville answered in a feeble voice, looking as if he wanted to shrink through the floor. Harry thought that it was unfair of Snape to put Neville on the spot like that. He glared at the professor.

"Well, clearly fame isn't everything. Anyone else who would like to answer?" Snape said in the malicious tone Harry suspected might be his regular tone of voice. "Potter, you give it a try." he added, apparently having caught the glare, even though Harry didn't think that he had ever actually looked at him.

"Well, the name of the potion is the Draught of Living Death, it's a powerful sleeping potion." Harry answered, relieved that he had decided to take Blaise's advice and study some potions before the first class.

"That is correct, five points for Slytherin." Snape said, sounding surprised that Harry knew the looked as if he had given Slytherin five points automatically, not realising it was to Harry he had given the points. Harry had expected Snape to not like him at least, since James and him always had rubbed the wrong way, and he was the very image of his father.

Snape and Lily had been childhood friends, but their friendship had weakened with time, mostly due to the fact that Snape had dark wizard friends. They didn't know if he had ever been on the side of Voldemort, but several of his school friends became death eaters practically right after Hogwarts, so no one thought him completely innocent.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkswood and wolfsbane?" Snape said, the spell of surprise gone in a flash.

That was very odd, Harry thought. Moony is sure that Snape knows about him being a werewolf. Why does he give me a question that he knows beyond any doubt I will be able to answer? I thought he wouldn't like me answering correctly. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was sorted into Slytherin. He is supposed to favour the Slytherins a lot...

"There is no difference, sir, they are the same thing." Harry said in a sure voice. His entire train of thought had only taken a second or two, not nearly enough time to give Snape a reason that he wasn't going to answer the question.

"That is correct, Potter. Do you also know where to find a Bezoar?" Snape said, and this time Harry almost thought he wanted Harry to know the right answer, if only to be able to grant Slytherin more points.

"In the stomach of a goat, sir." Harry answered right away, having been prepared for the question. He was again thankful that they had studied the potions book the night before.

"Ten points for Slytherin." Snape said, his voice smooth for once, though that didn't make it less intimidating in any way. "Open your textbooks to page 253, you will find the instructions on how to make Silencing Potion. Put yourselves into groups of two and start working." Snape said, making it clear that a new phase of the lesson had started.

Harry paired with Blaise, leaving Theodore to work with Tracey. Harry found that potion making was hard, but not as dull as he had feared it might be. Him and Blaise made a good team, and at the end of the lesson, theirs looked better than anyone else's though Snape claimed, after a quick inspection, that it still was nowhere near perfect. Still, he had acknowledged that none of the other pairs had been able to make a better one, and Harry left the potions classroom with a smile plastered to his face.

o

Neville left the potions classroom feeling like a complete loser. First, he had been unable to answer the questions Snape had asked, but Harry knew the answers. Then it had became absolutely clear that he was a terrible potions maker, as his' and Ron's potion had turned out disastrous. It was supposed to be a thin liquid with a slightly blue tinge, which was exactly how Harry's and his partner's Silencing Potion had looked like, but his' and Ron's was thick like slime, and a repulsive green had been quick to tell them that theirs were among the worst attempts at the Silencing Potion he had ever seen, to gales of laughter from some of the Slytherins. Neville was sure that the potion's faults were mostly his own mistakes, not Ron's.

He saw Harry exiting the classroom, a smile on his face, surrounded by his fast gained Slytherin friends. He noticed that not all of the Slytherins seemed to like Harry. Two girls and three boys were clearly separated into their own group. One of them, a pale, slender boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, cast murderous glares at the happily unknowing Harry, as if he had stolen what was meant to be that boy's place in the group, as well as his 'to be' friends.

Harry walked up to Neville, having spotted him looking his way. His friends stayed where they were, not wanting to come too close to the Gryffindor who was worthless at potions, or perhaps giving them room to speak without any ears close. "Hi, Neville. I'm sorry Snape put you in the spot like that. That wasn't fair." He said in a sympathetic voice.

"You knew the answers, you were put in the spot too." Neville pointed out miserably. He knew that Harry was just trying to make him feel better, but it wasn't helping.

"I only knew them because Blaise, that's the guy I made the potion with, told me that it was best to study potions before the lessons. He knew that Snape likes to start with something hard to make those who haven't studied in advance feel bad. 24 hours ago, I didn't know those answers either." Harry said.

"I looked like a complete fool: I couldn't answer the questions, and my portion was terrible." Neville said, still not convinced that this lesson was the worst possible way to start school with.

"I think that most people would have been unable to answer the questions, I wouldn't have been able to, were I in Gryffindor. As for the potion, it was your first ever, and you were already nervous, and besides, there were several others that looked worse than your's." Harry said, determined to cheer Neville up.

"So you're havin' a good time in Slytherin? I mean, I was always sure you were a Gryffindor in the making, and then you were sorted into Slytherin..." Neville trailed off, not sure how to best express his thoughts. "I don't say that Slytherin's bad, just kinda unexpected, y'know?" he finished in a rush, hoping that he had not angered his friend.

"I know, I always thought we'd be in Gryffindor too. At first, when I was sorted into Slytherin, I thought it was going to be really bad, but it turned out to be great. I mean, so far so good, at least." Harry confided, lowering his voice to make sure that no one could hear.

"Hey Harry, we're leaving for herbology now. Do you want to come?" one of Harry's fellow Slytherins shouted, but Neville wasn't sure which one.

"Yeah, I'll catch up with you guys in a sec!" Harry answered, turning to see which way they went. "I need to go, I'm not sure I know the way to the greenhouses. Anyway, see you later." Harry said, having turned back to look at Neville before sprinting off to join his other friends.

Neville realised that he too should probably get going, otherwise he would risk being left alone, and he had no idea where the transfigurations classroom was located. He did feel better after what Harry said about him not being the worst, and happier still that nothing had changed between him and Harry. He had been worried that them being in different house would create a wall between them, but it hadn't.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Mcgonagall's class had gone by without any success on Neville's part, but most of the class were unable to turn their needles into nails, so he didn't feel particularly bad over not having made any headway.

In their last lesson, charms, they practiced wrist movements that would come in handy later, but they didn't try any actual spells, so there was nothing he could fail in.

Dinner was a merry business, everyone talked about their first day, and Neville, though he didn't really say anything, was perfectly content to the others. Maybe, the day wasn't a disaster after all he thought, as he was surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors.

**A/N Chapter 2 finished, yay! I know that it's slightly shorter than the previous one, but I try...**

**I alternated the point of view this time, was it good or just messy? Please, read and review (no flames(; thanks)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi again guys! This chapter is going to be from Hermione's and Neville's points of view. I'm going to write this story from many different perspectives, allowing me to get the broader picture of things. I know that this chapter isn't very long, and I will try to make the next one longer, but I didn't know how to continue without starting in on the events I have already planed for the next chapter. **

**Anyway, I've written this chapter as fast as I've been able to, and don't expect me to write faster, because I will probably just end up disapointing you in that case. **

**I know that the titel of the chapter sucks, but it is the actuall chapter that is important, right? Please, review, it will make my day and improve and or give me inspiration to write!**

Chapter 3: Good or bad week

The library stretched on into eternity: the large, dark brown bookcases were built all the way to the high ceiling, and there were row upon row upon row of them, letting Hermione believe for a moment that there wasn't a book in the world that couldn't be found here. It was completely quiet except for the low whisper of pages being turned and people breathing. She could hear her own heart pounding with excitement. There were good chairs to sit in while reading, something very important in her opinion. They were large, red of colour, and were the most comfortable chairs she had ever had the pleasure of sitting in. This, Hermione thought, must be heaven.

Hermione woke suddenly, there was a noise that she could not quite define, but she knew it was what had woken her up. It was almost like the sound of a gun, or at least what a gun sounded like on TV, but she knew that couldn't be it. She still had the lingering sensation of happiness and excitement from her dream, but she could not recall what it had been about, only that it had been pleasant.

Sitting up, she stretched and checked the time on her watch. It was 7:05, time to get up anyway. She could not be late for her second day of school. She yawned and got out of bed, pulling on her dark blue robe and sitting down on the bed again. She wondered what the noise that had woken her was. She picked up a small hand mirror from one of her pockets and began to quickly brush her hair, making sure that she looked decent before heading down the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room.

When she entered the common room, she realised what had made that noise that had woken her up was. There were four boys, probably in their fifth or sixth year at Hogwarts, playing some sort of game that seemed to involve small, if loud, explosions from time to time. She thought that it was rather rude of them to not think of the others who wanted to sleep longer, but she could not bring herself to be angry, they had woken her up at the perfect time to get up after all.  
She pulled out the simple map of the parts of Hogwarts she had visited during the day before from her robe and studied it intensely. The faster way to the great hall which that kind fifth year prefect, Penelope had shown her was marked with a blue colour. She also had the locations of all her classrooms on the map, with notations for a quick route to the charms classroom that she had found yesterday.

With the help of her map, following the blue line that lead straight for breakfast, Hermione made it to the great hall in only ten minutes. It would have gone even faster ir she hadn't taken a turn too early, and as a result had to retrace her steps partway back, but she had still made good time, all things considered. She knew that many were completely lost the first week or so, and had even read about a boy who had wandered the castle for several days before finding his way to the transfigurations classroom. Of Course, when he showed up, he was not supposed to be there any longer, as the class had finished literally days ago. She smiled at the incredulity of it all and wondered if it was a true story or just someone's way of saying that navigating Hogwarts is tricky.

There were only a few students who were up and eating, among them she noticed Penelope, who had given her the faster route to the great hall, along with some of the other ravenclaw girls in their fifth year. She decided to sit with them, hoping to be able to talk about transfiguration, the subject she was most interested in. She was going to have double transfigurations with the Slytherins after the morning class, potions. She wanted to be as prepared as possible from the start.

Hermione ate her toast in silence, but when she had finished it, she asked Penelope what she thought of transfigurations, and the transfigurations teacher, Mcgonagall.

"Well" Penelope answered, "I like transfigurations. It is probably my best subject. As for professor Mcgonagall, she is a good teacher. Strict, but she will listen to you, and she is always fair. So long as you don't get on her bad side by disrupting her class or such, you should have a grand time in her lessons." The tone of voice she used conveyed the truth of her words, or at least that she believed them.

"That sounds very good. I have read a lot about it and it sounds like the most interesting branch of magic. I'm really excited about getting to learn to perform those kinds of spells!" Hermione answered enthusiastically, taking out her map to study possible routes from the potions classroom in the dungeons to the transfigurations classroom.

Potions turned out to be quite fun: as long as you followed the instructions exactly, you got the right result. Following instructions was definitely something she could do, but there were many others, especially in Hufflepuff, who thought that it was very hard. She couldn't understand it; all they had to do was follow the instructions, and yet so many potions turned out completely dreadful. True, her's wasn't perfect, but it was near enough as far as she could tell. Professor Snape hadn't said anything at all about it, even though he had told several others that their potions were among the worst he had ever seen.

She didn't like professor Snape, he kept saying rude things to those who didn't do well in his class, and she knew that such behaviour would not improve anything. Still, she had only had one lesson with him, so she couldn't be sure. He might just have had a bad day.

Climbing up from the dungeons after class, Hermione smiled widely, it was finally time for the first transfigurations class. She knew that she had high expectations, and that is sometimes dangerous, but so far everything at Hogwarts had far exceeded her expectations. She had never been so happy in her entire life, because she had never fit in anywhere until she was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Transfigurations was as interesting as she had imagined it to be. Everyone was thrilled when their professor, Mcgonagall, turned her desk into a pig and then back again. They soon realised that that kind of magic was far beyond their abilities, but just knowing that such a thing was possible gave Hermione a goal to work towards. The fact that professor Mcgonagall claimed her subject to be both complex and dangerous didn't discourage her at all: if anything, it made her more excited to prove she was up to the task.

The first thing professor Mcgonagall asked them to do, transfiguring matches into needles, proved a real challenge. Almost half the lesson had gone by before Hermione made any headway at all, but then, her match suddenly turned pointy and got a silvery colour. This gave her new resolve to continue, and by the end of the lesson, she turned her matches into perfect needles, sharp and complete with a hole for the thread. She was the only one in the class who had managed to get that far, but Lisa Turpin, Su Li and one of Harry's friends in Slytherin had managed to transfigure their matches into passable needles.

Hermione was so proud of herself when Mcgonagall happily showed the class the fruit of her labour, telling them that it was an excellent result, and giving Ravenclaw five points as a reward. Some of the Slytherins who were not Harry's friends cast her angry looks, as if she was not supposed to do so well. She knew that it was likely that they had discounted her because she was muggleborn, and now they were upset because she didn't fit their requirements of how a muggleborn should act. She thought that it was rather prejudiced of them to assume things about her just because her parents weren't wizards, but had come to understand that she probably couldn't change it.

The first years of Slytherin were clearly divided into two groups that didn't like each other at all. There were those who were friends with Harry (including himself of course) or at least did not mind him, and then there were those who hated him beyond reason. The latter group was lead by Draco Malfoy, a decidedly unpleasant boy who thought that he was above everyone else.

Hermione's happiness lasted her through the history of magic lesson that was their last for the day. The professor, a ghost, drowned on and on about the historical events, not seeming to care, or notice for that matter, that almost no one paid him any attention. She was a bit annoyed that people didn't even pretend to pay attention, not even on the first lesson, but she decided that it was their choice as long as they didn't disturb her. She was paying close attention, taking notes and committing the major facts to memory. If the others wanted to fail the course, there was nothing she could or would do about it.

The rest of the week followed a similar pattern, Hermione got up early, went to the great hall for breakfast and talked to the older students about the classes. She didn't need the map of the school anymore, though she brought it with her just in case, she didn't want to find that something had moved and suddenly be lost. Still, she had been in every classroom she was going to have except for the astronomy tower, and that was fairly easy to find.

She did well in her classes, and did all her homework the same day she got it to make sure that she didn't fall behind. She discovered that she was best at charms, but that all magic could be learned if she simply studied hard enough. She was very pleased to realise that she could do anything if she just put her mind to it.

But there was a downside that she tried not to think about too much. While she was doing great in all subjects, she had a much harder time trying to get friends, or just talk to students her own age. She talked to the older students at breakfast, but them never discussed anything but class. Some of the other first years in Ravenclaw were jealous of her quick headway, thinking that she thought that she was better than them because she could beat them in every single subject. One of them, Su Li, who slept in the bed across from Hermione's had even been angry with her when she had corrected the other girl's wand movement when she was practising her charms homework. Su Li told Hermione that she didn't want the help of a know-it-all, thank you very much, and would Hermione please get back to reading her book or whatever people with no life did in their free time.

After that incident, Hermione had stormed up to her bed and buried herself in books to escape her own reality for a while. She had a gnawing feeling that Su Li had expressed the minds of just about everyone in the entire year, but she refused to think about it. Instead, she thought about her book, and the problems the main characters in it had to face: they had to destroy an undestroyable ring and keep it away from it's master, or else the world was doomed. She liked Frodo and Sam, the main characters, and how they always knew that no matter what, they always had each other. She wished that she had someone that she could count on to always be there for her.

o

Neville laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was saturday morning, the first weekend of Hogwarts. The week of school had gone better than he had feared, but he had realised that the only subject he was any good at was herbology.

He had talked to Ron, getting to know him better, but many of the other Gryffindors, as well as nearly all of those who didn't belong to his house, thought him weird and slow of thought. He hadn't even tried to talk to someone besides Ron and Harry, but it had felt like everyone was talking about him, laughing at him, behind his back. He knew that many were disappointed in him, or rather in 'the boy who lived'. They had expected the only one who ever survived the killing curse to be someone cool, or at least be good at magic, but Neville was neither. Still, it could definitely have been worse. He could have been taunted openly. So long as they were doing it behind his back, he didn't have to hear it, didn't have to respond or rush off.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that there were probably only a few people who were actually saying things about him behind his back, but since he didn't know who did it, it felt like everyone was doing it.

Harry had seen him looking downhearted on wednesday afternoon, after their second defence against the dark arts lesson, and had asked him what was wrong. Neville had confessed his suspicion that people were talking behind his back. Harry had answered that he was probably right, but that was because they didn't know him. They only knew of 'the boy who lived' and drew conclusions from that and what they had seen of him in Hogwarts. Harry had insisted that Neville was not the rumors that could be heard in the corridors of Hogwarts, and neither was he his fame. He was simply Neville, a boy whose parents died when he was young. Or better yet, Neville, a first year in Gryffindor.

That had made Neville feel better about the situation, even though Harry hadn't offered a solution. I had felt good to know that it wasn't his fault, and hopefully, once people got to know him, they could judge him for himself, and not his fame.

Neville's happiness had lasted until friday afternoon. It had been the third potions class, and Neville's skills with potion-making hadn't improved the slightest. On the contrary, his results seemed even worse than the previous times. He had reasoned that it might be due to the fact that they were making harder potions, but he didn't see any of the others get worse.

Harry had said that it might be because he was so nervous about making mistakes that he couldn't concentrate properly, and Neville had agreed that there was some truth in that statement, but it didn't help him. He hadn't been able to stop being nervous, and Snape had been breathing down his neck, saying all the time how worthless he was at the exact art that it potions, which obviously had resulted in more nervousness and worse results.

Only the fact that they had had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs after potions had lifted Neville's spirits a little, but he had still been down in his boots when dinner had been served in the great hall. He had sat between Ron and Seamus, staring at his full plate, eating only a few bites.

When Ron had asked him about it, he had claimed not to be hungry, but had been contradicted by his growling stomach almost at once. As if it had been protesting and had realised that the best way to get the right questions asked was to shout it's disapproval of the situation before the noise of everything around them began again, making it impossible to hear much of anything.

Ron had looked at Neville and said "sounds to me like you're starving, you sure you don't want to eat? I always feel better when I'm full." in a voice that had said that he actually cared.

"Hey, this isn't about Snape, is it? 'Cause he's just a jerk." Seamus had added, and Neville had looked at him and said "Well, I guess he is, I, I just can't think straight when he's breathing down my neck. I which he'd find someone else to pick on." and just like that, he had felt better.

After that, he had found it easier to talk to his peers in Gryffindor, but he still had still gone to bed early, claiming to be tired. It had been the truth.

As he lay in bed, thinking about the week, not really in the mood to start the day and get up, he heard the noise of the other boys waking up. First, Dean Thomas woke. He rose, put on his robes, and went down the stairs to the common room. Neville didn't bother informing Dean that he was awake by saying 'Good morning' because then he would risk having to converse with him. He was not in the mood to chit-chat politely with someone he hardly knew more about than the name.

Some five minutes later, Ron woke up by rolling out of his bed. He yelled, and groaned at the pain in the back of his head (apparently, that was where he had taken the biggest impact) so loudly that the last boy in their room, Seamus Finnigan, woke too.

"wasa matter?" Seamus asked in a sleepy, incoherent voice. He sat up slowly, clearly still half asleep, and seeing that no one was hurt badly, fell back on his bed and closed his eyes.

"You ok, Ron?" Neville asked, having decided that he should probably get up soon, or else he might risk missing breakfast.

"Yeah, I fine, just... not a pleasant way to wake up." Ron mumbled, a yawn cutting his sentence in two. He slowly started to unwind his blanket which he somehow had managed to roll himself into, making it quite difficult to get up.

Neville had a good laugh about it on the inside, but decided against helping. He instead got up and put on his robes. A quick peek out the window told him that breakfast was probably still open, but not for long.

The weather was brilliant, the sun shone and it had that crisp quality that told him that automne was on the doorstep.

They went down for breakfast, and got there in the last minute, so they had to wolf down their toast quickly. They were practically the only ones who were eating, only a few older Hufflepuffs and a couple of Slytherins were there when they arrived, and both groups left almost immediately, leaving Neville, Ron and Seamus all alone in the great hall.

Somehow, it looked smaller without all the people in it, as if it was a balloon that needed air to become as large as it could be. Neville thought that was very strange, he had thought that it would be just the opposite, and he mentioned it to the others between bites of ham toast.

"Well, maybe, it might be some charm, I don't know. You'd have to ask Hermione, she seemed to know everything and then some about Hogwarts." Ron answered, seemingly annoyed that he had had to mention her, as though he was still mad at her for the episode with his dirty nose.

After breakfast, they went outside to enjoy the perfect weather, and do some of the homework they had been assigned. They had to write an essay on the properties and uses of wormwood in potions, and Mcgonagall had told them to practise transfiguring square pieces of wood into round ones.

Neville was performing surprisingly well with the wormwood essay, considering how useless he had come to realise he was when it came to potions. He reasoned that this might have something to do with the fact that he didn't have Snape breathing down his neck, or maybe everything was wrong and it wasn't good after all.

They spent the entire day outside, and the others talked, but Neville never joined the conversation. He tried a few times in the beginning, but the others had always moved on to another subject when he knew what he should say, and he knew they'd think him strange if he all of a sudden jumped back to subject they had talked about a few minutes ago. He soon gave up and just sat enjoying the sun, knowing that it wasn't going to last much longer. All and all, it was a good Saturday.

**A/N So, what did you think?**

**And y****es, I thought that Hermione should read Lord of the Rings, I mean why not? It's a great book (or series whatever...) and she is the bookwormy type. She can't be reading schoolbooks all the time. Especialy when she is feeling down there must be another universe to escape to...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**

**Hi again guys! I know that it's been a while since I've updated, but I've done my best. This chapter is a bit more than my goal of 4000 words.**

**If there is something you have a question about or want to comment on, don't hesitate to review=)**

Chapter 4: Discussions

Harry's first week at Hogwarts was one of the best in his life. He made new friends; Blaise, Tracy, Theodore and Daphne Greengrass, a girl with curly, long, dark brown hair, big, warm, brown eyes and tan skin. She had a certain aura about her, like she owned the place, but she never acted like it or spoke about it, so it didn't make her an idiot like Draco. Harry also talked to Neville a number of times, and their friendship had thankfully not been damaged by Harry being sorted into Slytherin.

He did well in most of his classes, Potions and and Defence against the dark arts were his best subjects, but he did better than most people in both Charms and Transfigurations. (that was probably something he had inherited from his parents) He could not listen to professor Binns for more than ten minutes before tuning it out, but that was no worse than anyone else except for Blaise and a boy in Hufflepuff who actually seemed to enjoy listening to the ghost. Harry had asked Blaise who he could manage to listen and take notes on Binns' lessons, and had gotten the answer that he had to, otherwise he would get a bad grade in History of magic.

In the morning the third day, Harry received a long letter from his parents. They had heard that he was in Slytherin, and his mother had congratulated him. He had been a bit afraid of what James would think of him being in Slytherin, but he only said good luck and advised Harry to stay away from Malfoy. (as if he needed someone to tell him that) The one who had been most surprised and disappointed in his house had been Sirius. He had written a few lines, claiming to be happy and hoping that he had made friends, but even though they were in writing they sounded like hollow lies. Harry really needed to sit down with the two-way mirror he had gotten for his tenth birthday and talk with his godfather.

The entire day, he thought of things to say, how to convince Sirius that he had not gone over to the bad side, that it was not a mistake, and that he was happy in Slytherin. He knew that it would be difficult, especially since he know that his godfather didn't want to think of Slytherins as pleasant. Blaise commented at lunch that he seemed awfully distracted by something, and he explained the situation to him, simplifying it so that it wouldn't take too long to looked surprised that his family were old Gryffindors, but understood why that would make them hesitant to accept that their son had been sorted into Slytherin.

In the afternoon, after the Charms lesson, Harry went back to the common room alone and dug up the two-way mirror from his trunk. He said "Sirius" and waited patiently, hoping that Sirius wasn't still working.

Moments later, the familiar black curls of Sirius hair came into view, and then the rest of his head. He was smiling, but Harry thought that it looked just a bit forced.

"Hi Harry, how are things?" he asked in a cheerful voice.

"Padfoot!" Harry exclaimed, using the nickname as a balance for the serious things he knew they needed to discuss. "I'm all good. Hogwarts is brilliant, and I've made friends, and all the subjects are interesting, well excluding History of magic, but that has more to do with Binns than anything else." Realising that he was blabbering, Harry fell quiet, trying to collect his thoughts and say what he had planned to.

"Really? Everything is as it should? You were sorted into Slytherin!" Sirius said, apparently unable to hold it in any longer. Harry looked at him for a while, unsure of how to respond, even though his godfather was reacting in much the same way he had expected him to.

"You aren't mad are you?" Harry settled for a mild approach. "'Cause I really am having a brilliant time in Slytherin. There are some great people here, please, don't judge them by the Slytherins you knew." Harry pleaded, he needed Sirius to give him a chance. "There are the jerk kind too, obviously, but those who are team Malfoy steer clear of anyone who is friends with me, unless they wish to fight."

"Malfoy already hates you and wants to fight with you?" Sirius said hesitantly, definitely cheered by the news. "What about Snivelly? Is he giving you trouble?" he asked, and Harry wasn't sure if he was hoping for a yes or a no.

"No, actually, Snape has been surprisingly... non hostile towards me. I was expecting him to dislike me, but it seems like he might be giving me a chance to screw up before deciding that I'm like my father." Harry said, trying to make Sirius smile. His ploy was unsuccessful, but his godfather was probably still processing the fact that Snape hadn't been an ass towards Harry.

"It's not like he has changed, it think, I mean he's terrible to Neville, and likes to comment on all the Gryffindors poor results in general, but for some reason he is courteous to me. He even gave me points for answering questions correctly, and it was so weird, because one of the questions he asked me was about wolfsbane, and he knows that I would know the answer, it's like he wanted me to look good. It might just be that he wanted an excuse to give Slytherin points, but it feels like there are other ways to do that." Harry finished, realising that he had been talking faster and faster, trying to get it all out without being interrupted.

Sirius looked like someone had just told him that water was dry. His eyes were bigger than Harry had ever seen them, and his eyebrows had climbed up out of sight behind his dark curls. "Snivelly wants to make you look good? There must be some really weird ulterior motive, a Slytherin plot that makes no sense to us normal people..." Sirius trailed of, perhaps thinking of the mysterious plot Snape surely had. Harry knew that his godfather thought Snape would never do something that might be considered nice or pleasant to James' son unless force to, but Harry didn't think that there was an ulterior motive. It seemed to him like Snape simply accepted that he was a Slytherin, and therefore was willing to give him a made sense in a way, because Snape always favoured the Slytherins, and just the fact that he could be sorted into Slytherin proved that he was not his father.

"I don't think that Snape has a plot, but I'm not going to let my guard down until I know that I can trust him, so don't worry. And there is not a chance in the world that I would be friends with Malfoy and his gang. They're rude to people, and the others are more of less Malfoy's slaves or bodyguards or something. I mean, he doesn't even seem to like them, he just surrounds himself with them for protection and because it makes him look impressive and popular!" Harry said with disgust.

He did not understand how anyone could live like that, but then again, he didn't understand why the gang would want to be below Malfoy in the first place. It made no sense to him whatsoever, but he reasoned that at least Crabbe and Goyle weren't smart enough to realise that Malfoy didn't think of them as equals, and Pansy Parkinson was so desperate for attention from someone that was better than most in her eyes that she did whatever she could to be around him, and Millicent Bulstrode was just as bad as Draco. She might not be as rich or as much of a drama queen, but Harry was sure that she was vicious on the inside from what he had seen of her in the three days of school since the term had started. That put her only slightly below Malfoy to Pansy's great annoyance, and probably encouraged Pansy to be worse than she already was.

"I can see what you mean by that, Harry, the Malfoy I had to do with in school want much the same. There will always be people willing to lick the boots of those who thinks of themselves as above the rest, or so it seems. I don't understand it either." Sirius said, being serious for once Harry thought. Oh, if I had said that out loud he definitely would have repeated the old Sirius/serious joke Harry thought, grinning. It was something he had grown up with since Sirius had basically told it every time he heard the word "serious".

After that, they steered the conversation to the lighter topic of quidditch, and then Sirius said he had to go because he had some reports to finish before work tomorrow. They said goodnight, and Harry put his mirror back in his trunk. He was sure that Sirius understood at least a little bit better that he belonged in Slytherin, and that it wasn't a bad thing. He knew it might take a while for his godfather to fully accept the fact, but he was moving in the right direction, so he would get there eventually.

Harry made it back to the great hall to find most of the school enjoying dinner. As he stepped among the tables, heading for the green one, the smell of warm food made his stomach growl, and he found himself to to famished. He spotted Blaise, Tracy, Theodore and Daphne, making his way over to them to sit next to Tracy. She asked him where he had been and he explained that he had been talking to his godfather, but decided not to go into detail. He wasn't sure why, except that he didn't think that the others would accept his family being a bunch of Gryffindors as easily as Blaise had. Blaise was more understanding than his other friends in Slytherin.

O

Neville was having a bad morning. Of course, he didn't know how he could have anything but a bad morning when he had Potions on the schedule. Snape was breathing down his neck, telling him how utterly useless and pathetic he was, making him unable to concentrate on anything accept not making any mistake, resulting in many. He left Potions in a hurry, and since he knew the transfigurations classroom, he didn't bother to wait for the rest of the Gryffindors. They might mock him for his poor results anyway, but if he gave it some time they might decide not to. He knew that they were mostly joking, but it wasn't funny, and he had no idea how to tell them that without sounding even more pathetic. **  
**

Transfigurations was not his favourite subject, nothing could compete with Herbology, but it was best of those he could live with. He wasn't good at it, but neither was he the worst. He was somewhere in the lower middle, and that kept him from being laughingstock in this class, since most people at least had a close friend who wasn't any better than him.

The double Transfigurations lesson did not make up for the torture that was Potions, but he was happy they didn't have Defence, because he didn't think that he could stand more mocking and failure right then. Defence was his next worse subject, followed closely by Charms. He simply wasn't good at magic, and he had speculated that they might not have let him attend Hogwarts if he hadn't been the boy who lived.

Transfigurations went without much success on Neville's part, resulting in more homework as he had to practise for the next lesson. Transfigurations was a split lesson,so they had one period, then went for lunch and came back for another one. Neville sat beside Ron and the other Gryffindors at lunch, but he didn't speak a word. He listened to their conversation, but it was mostly something to do. They were discussing quidditch, Ron explaining to to Dean Thomas why it was the best sport in the world, and the others commenting on the yearly league and adding arguments to support Ron.

After Transfigurations, Neville hurried again, speeding to the Charms classroom so he could spend some time diving into the depths of "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi", the Herbology textbook. When he reached the classroom, there was one person already waiting. He was surprised, he didn't think that there would be any reason for someone to hurry to get to class a quarter before it started only to have to wait. He reminded himself that he himself was doing just that, but he had a special reason.

He walked a few more steps closer, and then recognized the student. It was Hermione, the girl he, Harry and Ron had gone it the boat with. She was sitting against a wall, reading a heavy book.

"Hi, Hermione." Neville said tentatively. Hermione had seemed nice enough when he they had met before, so he didn't see any reason to ignore her. Hermione looked startled, and then lifted her head to look at him.

"Oh, hello Neville. Nice to see you." she said in a friendly tone. Neville remembered that Hermione hadn't mocked him, even though she was one of the best at everything. She had also figured out who he was, but hadn't asked awkward questions about it.

"Are you always this early to your lessons?" he asked, mentally growing at the fact that he couldn't come up with a more interesting conversation starter. Hermione, who had looked down at her book again in the brief pause, looked up once again.

"Yes, if I can. I enjoy sitting in a quiet corridor reading. Doing outside the classroom means that I don't have to worry about being on time for the lesson." she said, almost sounding like she was defending her action. Great, now you've made her angry Neville thought, sitting down beside her and starting to open his own book.

"Are you always this early for class?" Hermione asked, not sounding angry at all.

"No, but I wanted to get a chance to read more in this book." Neville explained, still not sure if she was mad at him or not.

"Huh, so... are you having a good time at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, clearly wanting to speak to Neville. He didn't know what it was but something made him want to tell the truth. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't trust anyone in his own house, but she seemed reliable. He knew that he could talk to Harry, but he felt whiny, complaining to Harry all the time about someone being rude to him or not being able to perform the spells taught in class. He needed to speak to someone else, and somehow he knew that Hermione would listen and talk to him without pitying him too much.

"Well no, not really." he said, looking away "I... I'm not good in any subject except for Herbology which I am alright at and Potions which I am completely worthless at. People mock me for doing so bad in class. I think they might be disappointed in me for not living up to their expectations of "the boy who lived"." Neville said, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was good to have it out in the open. Hermione frowned and looked at him questionably.

"That's not fair. I mean you can't help not being talented in most subjects, and besides, I've seen you in transfigurations, and there are many who are a lot worse than you are." she said, as if she was arguing a point with him.

"I guess so, but most don't see it that way. They expected me to be cool and good at magic, not just a failure who is laughing stock for everyone and doesn't even remember to take off the sorting hat at the ceremony." he said miserably, recalling all the snide comments that he couldn't remember anything, even if it literally sat on his head.

"Well, they are either a bunch of jerks, or they don't realise that they are putting expectations on you that they have no right to. It's not like it's your fault that you aren't classified as 'cool in their eyes." she said, her tone heated. She clearly felt strongly about it. Neville felt his cheeks grow hot. He was not used to anyone defending him, with the exception of Harry, but they had always been friends, so it wasn't as weird.

"I don't exactly have any friends either. I don't know why, but everyone seems to hate me for being muggle born or doing well in class or trying to help them by correcting them. I thought that things would be different when I started at Hogwarts, when I was sorted into Ravenclaw, but it looks like witches and wizards are no different from muggles after all." Hermione continued, staring straight forward at a suit of armor, polished so that it shone, reflecting the light and making her almost able to see her own reflection.

Neville knew that it was significant that Hermione had chosen to open up to him in return, and he was sure that if he just said something nice, like she had done for him, he might be able to consider her his friend after this.

"They resent you for trying to help them? That doesn't make any sense at all!" he exclaimed, keeping his voice low so that the people walking past them wouldn't hear. "Resenting you for being muggle born you are pretty much going to have to live with, because that kind of idiocy is inherited, it doesn't go away, but why would they not like you because you're good at magic? It's not like you're gloating that you're better than them or anything..." Neville said, trailing off as the rest of the Ravenclaw girls came walking down the corridor. He understood that their conversation was over, and thought that he might still be able to read a few pages in his book.

Hermione however, didn't think they needed to stop talking and brought up the subject of Herbology. Neville was glad to have a light topic of discussion to discuss. The fact that he felt like he was smart and actually could contribute something worthwhile to the conversation was a big plus.

o

Ron's second week of school was much better than it could have been. He talked to Dean and Seamus most of the time, and sometimes Neville tagged along, and none of his teachers had given them too much homework or too hard assignments in class. True, he was by no means in the top of the class in any subject, but neither was he the worst at something like Neville. He was somewhere in the middle, and perfectly content to stay there for the time being.

One class Ron actually looked forward to was flying, even if they had it with the slytherins. Their first lesson was on wednesday morning, before Potions.

The wednesday morning was crisp, the sky was a bright blue and the air had that chill that told everyone that automne was approaching. Ron had actually not had any trouble getting out of bed that morning, which was definitely a first.

After a quick breakfast, they all went outside to the quidditch pitch. Madam Hooch, their professor, had lined up twenty broomsticks on the ground, and stood waiting for all of them to arrive. A few Slytherins were already there, and Ron saw that Harry was one of them.

Ron didn't know what he thought of Harry. On one hand, he had been sorted into Slytherin, and had made friends with them awfully quickly, but on the other hand, he seemed like a decent bloke when they had shared a compartment on the train ride, and Harry had never actually done something mean that Ron knew of. Still, you couldn't trust a Slytherin very far.

Slowly, the rest of the class came trickling to the quidditch pitch in twos and threes, until all twenty students were present. Madam Hooch began by letting them command the broom to fly up into their hands. This was not something easy, but Ron was annoyed to notice that Harry managed to do it on his first try. Ron had to try thrice before he got it, and he was still one of the fastest to get their brooms to obey. Neville's broom hadn't moved an inch. After a while, Neville, along with the rest who couldn't get their brooms to obey were told to pick them up.

They were shown how to hold their brooms, and Ron was delighted to find out that Malfoy, who had been boosting all around about his quidditch skills, had been holding his broom wrong all these years. Ron noticed that Harry smiled at that too, and his esteem of Harry rose a bit. If he didn't like Malfoy even though he was a Slytherin, them maybe he was okay after all.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, I want you to kick off from the ground hard. Rise a few feet, hover for a moment, then come back down by leaning gently forward." Madam Hooch instructed them.

Ron saw that Neville was really nervous, and he hoped that Neville would be able to keep his nerves in check, or else his first flying lesson might end with a trip to the hospital wing. Unfortunately, Neville couldn't keep his nerves under control, and pushed off before Madam Hooch had blown her whistle, rising up and up. He was probably twenty feet straight up in the air before his broom jerked and he fell off.

WHAM!

He landed hard on the ground, moaning in pain. Madam Hooch examined him, and informed him that he had a broken wrist. Just as Ron had predicted, he had to go to the hospital wing to mend it. Before she took Neville away, Madam Hooch sternly warned them not to mount their brooms until she was there to supervise once, Ron was not happy to be right.

"Did you see his face? The great lump. The boy who lived? Bah, the boy who failed's more like it!" Malfoy said laughing like it was all some kind of grand joke. His friends joined him standing in a circle around him almost as if they were his bodyguards. Ron temper flared, Neville had done nothing to deserve this kind of cruelty, and he was way too shy to stand up for himself against bullies like that.

"Shut up Malfoy." Ron said wanting to punch the idiot in the nose, but he knew that was a stupid idea what with all of Malfoy's friends standing protectively around him.

"Ooo, someone's angry" Malfoy sneered "Still can't afford new robes I see." he added, clearly enjoying himself and feeling brave among strong friends.

"Look! It's that stupid thing his gran sent him." Malfoy said, picking Neville's remembrall up from the grass and examined it. It glittered in the sun, wet from the dew in the grass.

"Give it here, Malfoy." Harry said, stepping forward and holding out his hand.

"No, I think I will leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about a tree top?" Malfoy with a sneer, smiling awful smile. He climbed onto his broom and rose upwards.

o

Harry was furious with Malfoy, and didn't listen as Blaise told him that it probably was a bad idea to follow Malfoy up into the air, he just mounted his broom and followed. Malfoy was a good flier, but Harry was better and he knew it.

"You've no friends to protect you up here. Just hand the remembrall over." Harry said much more calmly than he felt. He managed to control his voice so that it didn't sound like a threat, but like a regular conversation.

Malfoy, having reached the same conclusion as Harry about the proximity of his friends, shot one last sneer Harry's way and then threw the remembrall with all his strength away from Harry. Harry, not waiting a moment, sped off after the small ball. He knew that he could catch it, it was just a simple matter of knowing at which angle you had to fly to get the shortest route. He caught the ball a few feet from the ground, and then gently touched ground.

"Potter! You come with me." Snape's non-friendly voice said behind him, and Harry turned around to see Snape striding towards him quickly.

Harry's spirit fell, and he followed the Potions master in silence, contemplating what kind of punishment he was likely to get and what his parents would say when they heard about it. He was fairly sure that his dad would reprimand him because he was expected to, not because he was feeling particularly disappointed in him. Lily's rath would be real enough though.

Halfway through an empty hall, Snape rounded on him.

"You broke the rules Potter, endangering your life like that. You will have detention tomorrow afternoon a four. Don't be late." Snape said in his calm, soft voice that was way worse than if he had shouted. Harry nodded and almost turned to go when Snape continued. "And quidditch trials are monday next week. Show up and we might be able to bend the first year no broom rule." he said as if it was of no more importance than tomorrows weather forecast, but Harry was sure that he was just hiding whatever it was he felt.

Harry said "Thank you, Professor" and went back to his lesson, a broad grin splitting his face. He might have gotten detention, but he was going to try out for the house team, and it sounded like he was likely to make it.

**A/N What did you think? Should Harry make the team this year? Plz let me know (=**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hi again! **

**Rebeliousone: thank you for that wonderfully long review! I am happy that you liked the chapter.(hopefully you'll like this one too) You have given me lots of ideas for scenes in future chapters (and maybe a bit of this one too) so again, thank you!**

Chapter 5: Quidditch and Realisations

Harry had gotten the okay to get a broom if he made the team by Dumbledore, so now all he had to do was to outdo the other potential seekers. He knew that he would be up against people who were much older and stronger than him, but he thought that he could turn it into an advantage. Since he was lighter, he could switch directions faster, and might be able to accelerate faster too. He just had to make sure not to be hit by any bludgers.

As they made their way out of the common room, they spotted Malfoy and his gang standing by the door, looking as if they were waiting for him. Malfoy had been furious when Harry had been allowed a chance to make the team even though he was a first year, throwing such a fit that Harry thought that he should have earned detention.

He had sent an owl to his father, who in turn had sent a lot of owls to different people, telling them who Dumbledore made exceptions for "the boy who lived"s best friend. In the end, Dumbledore had had to make the announcement that an exception was going to be made for this year's first years, so that anyone who wanted to try out for the quidditch team could do so. This was received with cheers from several of the first years in all the houses, but most knew that they didn't stand a chance against those who were five of six years older than them.

Once the announcement had been made, Malfoy could be seen strutting happily around in the corridor telling everyone that he would be the new Slytherin seeker. Harry stayed out of his reach, trying to prevent a fight, but during friday breakfast, Malfoy strode right up to him, making him unable to prevent it.

"Not so though when you know that you'll face some real competition, huh, Potter? he said with a sneer, clearly thinking that he was a better seeker than Harry, or that he could bribe his way into the team.

"The competition hasn't gotten any tougher." Harry couldn't prevent himself from saying. "You know you won't be able to have all your friends surrounding you on the quidditch pitch." he continued.

"I don't need my friends to take on you." Malfoy said coldly. "I'll face you in a wizard's duel, wands only. At midnight in the trophy room, it's always unlocked." he said as if he had been planning to challenge Harry all along, and had simply been waiting for an excuse to do so._ Does he think that I'm stupid? It's probably a trick, Malfoy wouldn't want to actually face me._ Harry thought as he pretended to think about the offer.

"No." he finally said. "I'm not naive enough to fall for that, Malfoy, see you on the field Monday." he said, closing the deal. He had no problem with competing against Malfoy (as long as he came out the winner) but he thought that it would be better to do it on the quidditch field, where there would be a lot of witnesses.

When the Monday finally arrived, Harry was tense in his lessons. He almost stirred his warming potion clockwise instead of counter-clockwise, but luckily, Blaise had stopped him in time, so he had been able to save it. He saw Snape casting a reproachful look his way, but how he had been able to spot Harry's almost-mistake was a mystery.

History of Magic, their last lesson for the day, seemed to take a year. When Binns finally told them that the lesson was over, Harry almost expected to have grown an inch or two. Harry, Blaise and Theodore made their way quickly to the great hall so that they could eat before the quidditch trials began. Harry ate more than he usually did, knowing that he would need his strength if he was going to perform well.

Afterwards, they hurried down to the Slytherin common room so that Harry could get changed and Blaise and Theodore could get their homework. They had received more than Harry thought they would have, but he knew that he would be unable to do any of it after the trials. He would just have to tackle his mountain of homework the day after.

When they reached the quidditch field, Blaise and Theodore left Harry to prepare alone. There were a lot of players who hoped to make the team, but it seemed that there were only Harry and Malfoy from the first year. He also noticed that there weren't any girls, which he thought was very strange indeed. He thought that at least a few girls would want to try out. As far as he knew, there was nothing preventing them from doing it.

The Captain, a burly sixth year named Marcus Flint, yelled for everyone to gather around him and listen. Everyone fell silent and came obediently except for a few people who talked, and made no hurry to comply. Harry saw at once that Malfoy belonged to the latter group. He didn't understand why Malfoy would want to do such a thing when it might hurt his chances of making the team, but he reasoned that it had something to do with pride, and to appear not to jump at the commands of his elders, as if that made him better.

"First, I want you to fly five laps around the field, the last one should be at top speed, so I can see what you are capable of." Marcus said, almost shouting to make sure that everyone heard. Harry quickly mounted his broom, a comet two-sixty, kicked off the ground. The first few laps he flew at a leisurely pace, looking around and trying to size up his opponents and possible to-be teammates. Some clearly knew how to handle themselves on a broom, but three were many who flew unsteadily, having problems changing direction and so on. He wondered why those kinds of players even bothered to show up.

Following Flint's instructions, he flew the last lap as fast as he could, zooming past many even though they were flying at their top speeds too. He saw Malfoy across the pitch, but did not fly closer to him. If Malfoy wanted a confrontation, he would have to fly to Harry.

After the warmup, Flint told some of the ones who looked like it was their first time on a broom that they were not going to make the team, and told the rest to get together in groups with players of the same were three keepers, three seekers, (including Harry and Malfoy, the last one was a tall sixth year who informed them that his name was Terence Higgs.) four beaters and six chasers. All and all, it was two full teams plus and extra keeper and one extra seeker.

Flint divided them into two complete teams. Harry's team had an extra keeper, so they would have to shift sometime during the game. Harry wasn't very concerned, all he had to worry about was catching the snitch after all. They started by passing the quaffle among themselves, letting everyone get the feel of it, and singling out who was good at catching and throwing. Harry was happy that he had not been sorted into the same team as Malfoy, because he didn't think that he would have been able to cooperate with him.

After a few minutes, Flint yelled at them that they would start the game. The keepers on Harry's team, a quick third year and a massive sixth year, zoomed away to defend the goalposts. They had decided to work in shifts of five minutes. The beaters, a fourth year who looked like he might need help to spell the word 'quidditch', and a blocky fifth year whose arms were at least as thick as Harry's legs, flew to opposite sides, so that they would have the best chance to be close to the bludgers. The chasers, a third year named Adrian Pucey who was quite pleasant, an annoying seventh year who seemed to think that he knew better than everyone else, and a relatively small second year who looked very nervous, formed a triangle with Adrian in front, getting ready to snatch the quaffle before the other team managed to. Harry flew higher, trying to get a good overview of the quidditch pitch and at the same time be able to watch his opponent seekers. Flint said that they would both be playing at the same time, so Harry had to watch both of them very carefully so that he could follow them if one were to catch the snitch.

Flint threw the quaffle up in the air, and the game was on. Adrian managed to catch it just as the chaser on the other team made a grab for it, leaving him slightly unbalanced. Adrian passed it to the annoying seventh year who was racing up the field, followed closely by a chaser on the other team. He managed to catch the quaffle, but had to slow down, so the other chaser caught up and took the quaffle from his hands, flying off in the opposite direction. The annoying seventh year was too incredulous to think of defending and trying to get the quaffle back.

Harry reminded himself that the goings on with the quaffle was secondary to him. The thing at the centre of his attention should always be the snitch and if the others showed signs of having spotted it. He looked around, searching for the small, winged ball, and at the same time making sure that neither Malfoy nor Terence Higgs made any quick movements, indicating that they had seen the snitch.

Adrian, the third year chaser who Harry had talked to on several occasions in the Slytherin common room, was actually very good. He was quicker than most of his opponents, making up for his smaller size and weight. He was also good at anticipating what the others would do, snatching passes from the other team in mid-air.

The same thing could not be said about the rest of the team. The small second year kept dropping the quaffle, and couldn't throw it very far. The annoying seventh year played as though he expected the other team to just let him fly through their defence, and was caught by surprise every time someone tackled him or sent a bludger his way. One of the beaters, the extremely dumb-looking fourth year could occasionally hit what he was aiming for, as long as his target didn't move too much. (wich they tended to do, since they were tryign to score or such) The other beater, the strong fifth year could hit the bludgers hard, but his aim was so bad that his shots were as dangerous to his own team as to the other team.

Suddenly, Harry noticed that Malfoy was speeding straight towards him. His first reaction was that Malfoy had decided he wanted to fight him after all, but then he caught a glint of gold as the snitch flied back and forth in the area between him and Malfoy. Harry turned his broom in the right direction and speeded up as fast as he could, leaning forwards to reduce the air resistance.

The snitch started to plummet as though it had lost it's wings, and Harry dove right after it, seeing in the corner of his eye that Terence Higgs had seen them dive for the snitch, but he was far behind, he had no chance of catching the snitch before Harry or Malfoy. Malfoy had fallen a bit behind Harry, and he could feel him tugging at his clothes to make sure that he didn't fall more behind. Harry was trying hard not to lose focus and snap back at Malfoy, he knew that he needed to do his very best to be able to catch the snitch. He was closing in on it, only a few inches separated his hand and the snitch, but the ground was rushing towards them too fast, he would not be able to make the catch in time...

He pulled up in the last instant, and his hand finally closed around the snitch. Being only a foot or so from the ground, he lowered his broom all the way and strolled over to Flint, who looked very pleased with Harry's catch. He even went so far as to say "Well done, Potter.", before shouting for the others to get down and join them.

o

Ron sat in a chair in the Gryffindor common room, thinking about Harry and the Slytherins. When Harry had been sorted into Slytherin, he had been sure that it meant that he had some hidden dark quality or was eager to support those with power to get some of it, but Harry had shown no signs of any such thing. Instead, he had continued his friendship with Neville, even though it was obvious that Neville was neither powerful nor was he popular. What had finally made Ron reach the conclusion that Harry really was the person he had thought he was on the train ride to Hogwarts was the showdown in their first flying lesson. He couldn't think of any reason why Harry would do such a thing except that he was helping a friend, and that meant that he was caring and loyal, two qualities he didn't associate with Slytherin.

But there was more. What if there were more Slytherins who were actually good people? What if Harry wasn't the exception like he had first thought? Slytherin had always had a bad reputation, and he knew that many bad wizards and witches had been in Slytherin, but he was beginning to suspect that most of them were no different from the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He thought that perhaps he had been raised to be prejudiced against Slytherin because his entire family had been Gryffindor, and it was possible that some of the things he had taken as facts might just be rumors or exaggerations. He was debating asking Percy about it, he had had four years of Hogwarts to notice if the Slytherins were evil or not. Asking the twins would be pointless, they were Gryffindors down to the toenails, so they wouldn't say anything good about Slytherin. Percy was different. He was a Gryffindor sure, but Ron thought that he saw himself as a prefect first, and that might make him tell something he had noticed that the twins would never admit even if they were suspecting it.

Ron realised that the hour was late, and decided to go to bed. Most people had already gone up to their sleeping quarters, so the common room was almost empty. There were a few fifth years that still were doing homework, it looked as though they had a lot left even though Ron was sure they had been at it for at least two hours.

He went up the stairs, suddenly feeling bone weary. He was just able to lift his suddenly exhausted legs up the stairs and lay down in his four poster bed. He decided to remove his shoes, but was too tired to do more. He quickly fell into a deep sleep, even though thoughts of Slytherin still bothered him.

He woke the next day before everyone else, and lay in his bed, unable to go back to sleep. After a awhile, he admitted defeat and stopped trying. Instead, he went down to the common room to see if there was anybody else who was crazy enough to wake up earlier than necessary on a school morning. He found it completely deserted, but it didn't discourage him. Some quiet was what he had been hoping for after all. He wanted to think some more, and it was hard to do if someone was talking to him or making noises.

He wanted to be sure of what to say to make it sound important without making it look like he thought his family were a bunch of liers. As he sat it the most comfortable chair, the one next to the cold fireplace, he heard footsteps and looked up to see Neville climbing down the stairs. He was fully dressed and looked like he was about to head for breakfast.

"Hey Neville, where are you going?" he asked, noticing that he sounded much more tired than he felt.

"I'm heading down for breakfast." Neville claimed, as if this was the time he usually did that. Ron looked at him with surprise even though he had suspected the answer.

"Is it even open this early?" he asked, figuring that Neville had to be the only one who would want to eat this early in the morning, especially when classes didn't start for another two and a half hours.

"Sure, I've been eating at this time all week." Neville said, looking anxious to be off for some reason that Ron couldn't figure out. Neville looked like he wanted to go, like he was in a hurry, but didn't want to say so.

"Why? You aren't meeting someone are you?" Ron said displaying his non existent tact. He had noticed that Neville hadn't been with him and the other Gryffindors all week except sometimes at lunch or dinner, and had wondered where he had been. He had been meaning to ask Neville about it, but something else had always occupied his mind, or Neville was nowhere to be seen.

Neville's face went completely scarlet and he mumbled something about needing to finish his homework, and being too tired to do it in the evenings. Ron didn't believe it for a second, but Neville escaped through the portrait hole before Ron could question him further about it, and he decided to let it go for now. It would have to get out eventually, and as long as Neville was happy, Ron didn't mind it.

o

Neville hurried down to the great hall, hoping that Ron wouldn't decide to follow him and ask more questions. He suspected that Ron didn't mean to intrude, that he was simply curious what the person he thought of as his friend was doing, but Neville didn't want to tell him about the bond he and Hermione shared. It felt private, even though they mostly did their homework or discussed class and their teachers when they saw each other. With Hermione's help, Neville's skill and understanding of magic was rapidly improving, something that several of his teachers had commented on. The one big exception was Potions. He hadn't become any worse at it (he seriously doubted that it was possible) but he hadn't improved in class at all. He knew that it wasn't all his own fault, some of the blame could definitely be laid at Snape's feet, but that didn't help him during the lessons. Still, since he was improving in his other subjects, he found that most of them were actually quite fun (except for History of Magic which he was just happy that he could copy Hermione's notes in, because he didn't have the willpower to listen to Binns at any length of time)

When he reached the great hall, he immediately spotted Hermione sitting at one of the tables. She was the only student, but there were a few teachers including Mcgonagall and Sprout. There was no need to sit at a specific table this early, so Neville went to sit at the Ravenclaw table with Hermione.

"Hello Neville, I was just wondering when you'd show up." Hermione greeted him cheerfully. She had already began eating her toast.

"Hi Hermione, I'm sorry for being late, Ron was awake, though I have no idea why, and he kept talking to me, so I had to answer him..." Neville trailed off, realising that be was babbling. "Anyway, I'll try to be on time tomorrow." he finished, sitting down next to her. She smiled at him, telling him without words that he needn't be so nervous.

After breakfast, they went to the library, which was completely empty except for madam Pince, and they never saw her unless they needed to borrow a book. They sat in silence, writing an essay about the reasons behind certain wand movements when transfiguring an animal into something dead for Mcgonagall. Neville had grasped the theory of it faster than he thought possible, and had no trouble writing the required half foot about it.

Next, he had some astronomy questions he needed to answer for Sinatra. The first one was easy enough, but the second one made no sense whatsoever to him.

"Hermione, could you explain this to me?" he asked, not feeling stupid. That was the best part about asking Hermione, she knew everything, so it was completely natural to know less than her. She tried to explain it without giving the answer away, which was good, because then he had to think for himself, so he learned much faster that way.

He and Hermione usually had the same homework, so if there was something he struggled with, she had usually already done it. The best part was the Herbology homework. It hardly ever felt like homework at all, but rather as a fun discussion that was to be written down. They could discuss the best method of caring for a Abyssian shrivelfig, or which plant would be most useful to have at home, and Neville could always contribute with something clever and meaningful. He lived for those conversations, for those brief periods of time when he felt that he was someone who knew things, someone who could discuss advanced Herbology without making a fool of himself. He didn't know if they were important to Hermione, she could probably have discussions like that in all subjects they took at the moment at Hogwarts, but he knew that he had come to depend on them to boost his confidence. That ultimately helped him to get better grades in all his subjects, because he believed in himself, believed that he could perform the magic they were asked to. He didn't know what he'd do if Hermione said that they should stop having those conversations, but he knew that he wouldn't go back to having no self confidence. He had learned that he could do magic, he wasn't about to forget it anytime soon.

**A/N so, Hermione and Neville are good friends. I think that the next chapter will be about haloween. **

**Plz review, you will make my day! =)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N hi guys! New chapter coming up, yay! As you might have noticed, I decided to go with canon and make a bit of a timeskip here.**

**Sorry for being so slow with this update. I had a writer's block, and lots of homework... I know, I'm offering poor excuses, I'll try to do better with the next chapter.**

**Rebeliousone: Thank you soooo much for another long review. You really help me in my writing and this chapter might not even be finished yet if it weren't for you(= Some of your questions might be answered in this chapter.**

******I would also like to say thank you to nannis, Kuroshitsuji H, DAT. Guy and Lupinesence who revieved. Thank you!  
**

Chapter 6: Halloween

Hermione was waiting outside the Transfigurations classroom. It was ten minutes before class was going to start, and yet she was the only one who was there. She wished that Neville, who usually accompanied her when she was early for class, would hurry up and get there so that they could discuss the latest Herbology assignment. The other Ravenclaw first years had taken a longer route, even though Hermione had informed them of the shorter one she was taking. She couldn't understand why they were freezing her out, it had started so well. The first evening, she had talked to both Lisa Turpin and Su Li, and they didn't seem to mind her at all. They had seemed to nice, but all of a sudden, they didn't like her, and everyone else followed their lead. Now, about two months later, she had understood that it was a lost cause for the moment.

About seven minutes before class started, the Gryffindor girls, Lavender Brown and the Parvati twins, showed up. They were chatting noisily about the difficult Potion they had had to make for professor Snape, and how Neville's potion had melted his cauldron because he had added one ingredient or another at the wrong time. They thought he was a big joke, and laughed loudly at the "boy who lived" as if Neville's failing in Potions class was amusing instead of tragic. It angered Hermione that Neville was laughing stock because of his fame. Those three girls had probably never talked to Neville, yet here they were, laughing at his mistakes, judging him on things he could not control.

She was unsure where this anger came from, she was usually not temperamental, but suspected inwardly that it might be bottled up rage from her own treatment. Or it was simply her standing up for a friend. Still, her main train of thought consisted of one thing: the Gryffindor girls had no right to judge Neville because of a tragedy, no right to laugh at him for his mistakes, and yet they did, and no one stopped them. It simply wasn't right. As his friend, she also felt it was her responsibility to tell those idiot girls that not everyone thought that Neville was a joke.

"Is that what being a Gryffindor means to you? To laugh at your fellow Gryffindors when they make mistakes? To judge someone because of the tragic murder of their parents?" Hermione demanded in a voice so angry and deadly serious that she even surprised herself. She hadn't known that she had a voice like that one.

The three girls looked at her with surprise and annoyance, as if she had just told them that they weren't allowed to have fun in the corridors, and she was going to report them to professor Mcgonagall as soon as she showed up.

"Ooooo, someone's awfully touchy about a certain Gryffindor. That must have been the first time you said anything that wasn't related to school or homework, Granger, that crush of your's must be awfully bad for you to defend him so valiantly." Lavender Brown said teasingly.

"Well, it's the man who is supposed to be valiant, but I guess that poor little Neville doesn't have it in him." One of the Patil twins, Hermione couldn't tell them apart yet, added, and they all laughed all the more.

Hermione turned crimson and wanted to sink through the floor. She wanted to say "Do you hear yourselves? Slytherin's supposed to be the bad guys, but you are much worse!" but she couldn't get the words out. She only wished that class would start so she could think of something else.

"What's the matter, Granger? Did you use up all your non class-related words?" one of the Parvati twins said, and they laughed all the harder.

"Speak of the devil..." Lavender Brown said and they all turned to look at Neville who was walking down the corridor towards them. He seemed to be in a hurry, and his cheeks were red as if he had ran up all those stairs from the dungeons. Only a few meters behind him were the rest of the Ravenclaws, all marching in a big group.

"Sorry for being late..." Neville said between breaths, "Snape made me stay and clean up everything after my cauldron melted." he explained, completely ignoring the laughter from the girls. To avoid further comments from them, Hermione dragged Neville away from them. Neville asked her why she was so anxious to be away from the Gryffindor girls, but she just answered that they were a bunch of idiots. Neville, sensing that there was more to the story, but being smart enough to realise that Hermione didn't want to share the details right then, changed the subject to the Herbology assignment that Hermione had wanted to ask him about.

Only a few minutes later, McGonagall arrived, and the class started. Neville and Hermione worked together, taking turns to try to transfigure a slug into a stick. It was slow going, and very hard, but Hermione could tell that Neville really had improved. He was almost as good as her, and actually managed to turn the slug into a stick before her (although he did start, so he had had more time to practice than her).

Hermione was happy for her friend, happy that he at least was improving his skills in all subjects but Potions, but deep down she was jealous of him. He was almost as good as her, and she knew that it would only be a matter of time before people realised that and stopped mocking him for his inability as a wizard. Then, he would have a lot of friends and wouldn't need her anymore. She on the other hand wasn't about to suddenly know how to act to make new friends. Neville was her only real friend, and they were probably only friends because none of them had anyone else. She knew that it wasn't fair to think like that, and she hated herself for it, but she couldn't help it.

o

Ron and the other Gryffindors were walking to charms, their last lesson for the day. He could hardly believe that time had passed so quickly, he had been sure that it was still early October until someone had mentioned the fact that today was halloween. Still, when he thought more about it, it made sense. He had started some kind of routine, and the classes weren't so hard now that they had mastered the basics.

"Today we are going to practise to levitate feathers with 'Wingardium Leviosa'. It is important to articulate, remember the wizard Baruffio who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest, and don't forget to do the nice wrist movements we've been practising. Remember: swish and flick, that is the key." Flitwick told them when they had all settled down.

It was much more difficult than Flitwick made it sound. Ron was working with Neville, and tried over and over again to make the feather move, but it didn't budge an inch. After several rather meaningless attempts, Ron gave up, letting Neville have a go at it for a while. To his great surprise and annoyance, Neville managed it on his second try. Ron had been so sure that Neville would struggle with the spell at least as much as he had. Hadn't Neville been completely worthless at every subject except for Herbology? How had he learned so fast?

"Hey, how did you do that? I can't even get my feather to move." Ron said, realising too late that he sounded almost accusatory. He hadn't really meant it to be, he had just been surprised to find that Neville's charms skills far surpassed his own.

"Well, it's like professor Flitwick said, just pronounce it correctly and do the swish and flick thing. You move your arms too much." Neville said shyly, as if he wasn't completely sure if it was okay for him to give instructions on how to perform the spell. Ron tried again, taking Neville's advice and not moving his arms as much as he had. It made no difference whatsoever. Frustrated, he prodded the feather lightly with his wand. It was a mistake, because there was a loud BOOM! and the feather turned to ash.

"Fat lot of good that advice did me." Ron said, not caring that his words might hurt Neville. He didn't look at him, so he didn't see Neville recoil as though he had been slapped, and neither did he see the pink tone of Neville's face. Instead, he saw the disapproving face of Flitwick at failing to do the spell properly (and possibly for destroying a perfectly good feather).

"Don't touch the feather with your wand, Mr. Weasley, just point at it." Flitwick said, flicking his wand to make a new feather fly over to where Ron and Neville sat. As if I couldn't figure that out by myself Ron thought miserably, giving up. He instead looked around the classroom, hoping to see that everyone struggled as much as him. Instead, he was disappointed to find that many of the Slytherins had done it, and several feathers were flying around which could belong to almost anyone.

He caught Harry looking at him, gave him an angry glare. He had been almost unbearable since he made the Slytherin quidditch team as seeker. Always showing off with his knowledge in class, and making sure that everyone knew he was the best in flying lessons. Ron couldn't believe that he had thought that Harry might be a nice bloke. He was just another Slytherin, a bad egg like the rest of them. Ron was just about to get back at Harry for laughing at his failure to perform the spell, when Flitwick informed them that the lesson was over and that those who hadn't mastered the spell yet had to practice as homework.

Brilliant, now I get extra homework too. Ron thought miserably as he put his stuff in his old worn schoolbag and left the classroom with the other Gryffindors. The only good thing about the charms lesson had been the fact that it was their last lesson for the day. They headed straight for the great hall to attend the halloween feast, and as soon as they got there, Ron forgot all about having a bad day. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. There were candles hanging everywhere, dripping hot wax circulated, going back to their original candles. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Ron had only taken a few bites from his delicious meal when Quirrell came storming through the great doors into the hall. He was out of breath, as if he had run far, and his turban was slightly loose in places, making it move with his steps.

"T-Troll... in the dungeons. Just th-thought you ought to know." he said, his voice carrying through the hushed silence brought about by his sudden arrival. He then fainted, making the effect more dramatic.

Everyone started to panic, talking over each other, getting up to go somewhere further from the dungeons. Ron himself was halfway to the doors when Dumbledore's powerful voice cut through all the noise.

"Silence!" he boomed, his magically enhanced voice echoing in the sudden quiet when everyone stopped moving except to turn to look at him. "There is no need to panic. Prefects, take your students to your common rooms, staff, come with me to deal with the troll." he said, not needing the extra volume the spell provided him with as everyone was completely quiet.

Ron saw that Percy immediately took the opportunity to be a prefect and started to try to get all the Gryffindors to follow him back to the common room, as per Dumbledore's orders. It was precisely what Ron had expected from him brother.

o

Harry rose to follow the prefect who was going to lead them to the safety of the Slytherin common room. He wasn't particularly afraid of anything happening to him what with all the older students and teachers surrounding them, but doing as he was told in a situation when many were panicking was important. Blaise rose beside him, not looking frightened either, and made his way over to the prefect.

"Isn't it better to stay here instead? I mean, it's not like the troll could attack us like this, but if it is in the dungeons, it seems a bit odd to march down there." he said to the prefect, his voice calm and deliberate, as if he was talking to someone stupid. The prefect didn't seem to understand this (perhaps he really was stupid) but he did grasp the sense Blaise's words made. Harry hadn't thought of it before Blaise mentioned it, but he knew that he was right, going down to the dungeons when that was where the troll was likely to be was definitely a poor choice.

As the other prefects heard what Blaise had said, they decided to stay even though it was against what Dumbledore had said. All the teachers had already left to deal with the troll, but they figured that a troll couldn't do anything against the entire Slytherin house.

Malfoy started telling all who wanted to hear (and probably many who didn't want to hear) about how worthless Dumbledore was at his job, and how not thinking of the fact that the Slytherin common room was down in the dungeons was just another of his many mistakes. He was hoping to turn everyone against Dumbledore, Harry knew, but he was doing it in a way that wouldn't work. Just as he thought, the older students looked dismissively at him, or simply ignored him completely. Only his sycophants agreed with him, but that was standard procedure, they always agreed with him. It took him a couple of minutes, but at last Malfoy realised that he was only gaining his house's distrust by continuing, and he finally stopped talking, stopped insulting the headmaster. It was too late, the damage was already done.

Harry thought that it was a very good sign that Slytherin was more loyal to Dumbledore than a first year of their own house, or least had enough respect for the man to think badly of someone who insulted him. It meant that Slytherin really wasn't as bad as they had been made out to be by Sirius and James (when Lily wasn't listening). Harry already knew that his own friends were better, but this confirmed that the entire house was better. He was fully aware that Malfoy and his disciples weren't the only bad eggs in Slytherin, but he suspected that they could be found in the other houses as well.

After a few minutes, Quirrell woke up and got to his feet. Harry thought that it was rather odd that he had fainted. It seemed a bit too much, like he did it for extra effect, to make everyone panic. Looking at him as he swiftly got to his feet, Harry thought that his suspicions were confirmed by the fact that the teacher seemed to have no trouble whatsoever to do so. But why would he fake fainting? What would be the point?

"What is it Harry? Why are you staring at Quirrel?" Tracey asked, waking Harry from his disturbing thoughts.

"It might be nothing, but..." Harry said trailing off. How did one say that a professor was... odd? a fake? tricking the others?

"Well, don't you think it's odd that Quirrell fainted? and shouldn't he take on the troll himself instead of running here, getting everyone in full panic mode?" Harry tried to explain his thought process, still watching the professor.

"I suppose. What are you getting at though? Do you think that he's a … a fraud?" she said, seeming reluctant to add the last bit. Harry understood her perfectly. If Quirrell was a fraud, why had Dumbledore employed him, and if he was not, then why didn't he act as he should have?

"He rose awfully quickly when he heard that we were staying here, he didn't seem the least bit groggy." Harry said, thinking that it might have been one step too far. He wondered if he was making the same mistake Malfoy had made just minutes ago. But no, he was not insulting Quirrell for no reason, he was simply sharing his suspicions of the man.

"Huh." was all she replied with, but she didn't seem to disagree with his reasoning.

"You don't actually think that he is up to no good, do you?" Theodore put in. "I mean, he looks to be terrified of his own shadow, he'd never have the guts to do something behind Dumbledore's back." again showing Harry that he thought that trying to deceive Dumbledore was about the most stupid and risky thing one could do.

It surprised Harry that Theodore was the one who disagreed with him. He was usually quicker than most to believe the worst of people. it wasn't because he thought that everyone was bad, it was because he had been through more than most people had at eleven years old. Harry wasn't completely sure, but he suspected that one of Theodore's parents had been on Voldemort's side on the war. It would explain why he was so reserved and quick to judge.

"You have a point." Harry conceded. "But then again, maybe not!" he added as a new thought struck him. "It's the perfect disguise, isn't it? No one would think to suspect him, thinking that he doesn't have it in him." he said excitedly, whispering to make sure that none other than his friends could hear him.

Quirrel rose and went in the opposite direction of the dungeons, further strengthening Harry's suspicions. Why wouldn't he follow the other teachers unless he wanted to do something when no one was watching? It was a perfect opportunity, to do... something.

"I don't know Harry, it seems a bit far fetched to me." Theodore said, claiming Harry's attention again.

"Then why is he heading in the opposite direction of the dungeons?" Harry asked, making them all turn to take a quick look to confirm the truth of Harry's words. Quirrell had almost disappeared from view, but they had time to see as he passed around a corner. He could be going almost anywhere, all Harry knew was that he wasn't going to the dungeons, where he should be.

o

Neville did not join the other's as they went to the great hall for the big halloween feast. He wasn't in the mood right now, and probably wouldn't be able to eat a single bite of the no doubt delicious meal. Instead, he went to the greenhouses, his sanctuary of sorts. He knew that no one would be there, not even professor Sprout, but the door to greenhouse 2 was always open, so he let himself in. It was light and several degrees hotter in the greenhouse than in the castle, so that the plants would have as perfect conditions as possible.

He was angry with himself. He thought that if he did better in classes, then the other Gryffindors would stop mocking him, and he might become friends with at least some of them. He had let himself hope when Ron had seen that he had improved so much in Charms, but Ron had slammed that hope down his throat.

It was so unfair, why couldn't anyone give him a chance, when they were perfectly capable of giving each other second and third chances? He had thought that everyone freezed him out because he was bad at magic, and they saw him as a failure, but then why was Ron so rude?

After some thinking, Neville came to the solution that Ron and the other Gryffindors must have something against him. His inability in class was just an excuse, and now they would simply find another one. Perhaps Hermione's problem wasn't being the best in the class at everything either. Maybe they had been marked as permanently different, and the other's forced them away on principle, just because they were different.

But why Hermione? He could understand that he was different, he was "the chosen one" after all, so treating him as set aside at least made sense (although he would much prefer it if he was treated like his peers) but there was nothing wrong with Hermione. She was smart, helpful and trustworthy, and those were hardly grounds to freeze her out because of. In the end, only one thing was certain, he would always have a reliable friend in Hermione.

With that cleared up as much as it could be at the moment, he decided that he was hungry after all. He decided to go and check if there was still food on the tables of the great hall. In the worst case scenario, they had already started dessert, and then he would just have to eat tentacle tart and whatever else was offered.

He almost ran through the empty corridors, not wanting to miss the main course. He was in the corridor on the third floor when he saw someone opening a door. It was professor Quirrell. Why is he here instead of at the feast? It can't be over already, right? Neville thought.

"Good evening, professor Quirrell." he said in a cheerful tone. Professor Quirrell started, spinning around to face Neville, wand at the ready. When he spotted Neville, he relaxed somewhat and lowered his wand, but he still held it tightly in his fist.

"Oh, g-good morning Mr. Longbottom. You g-gave me quite a scare. Why aren't you in y-your common room?"

"Why would I be in my common room? It's not curfew yet, is it?" Neville asked worriedly, forgetting to call him "professor", but Quirrell didn't seem to have noticed. He couldn't have been thinking that long, could he?

"Where you not in the g-great hall? There is a troll roaming the c-castle, all students are to return to their common rooms for their own safety."

"A troll, professor?" Neville asked, completely surprised by the answer. From what he knew about trolls, it couldn't have gotten in on it's own, it was far too stupid. "But what if I meet it on my way to the Gryffindor tower?" He was anxious to be out of harm's way, even if it meant being where Ron and the other Gryffindors were. Quirrell stared at him angrily for a second, but then his expression changed.

"You'll be fine, the troll is somewhere near the d-dungeons. If you'll excuse me, I have something I must attend to." he said. He muttered something under his breath and pointed his wand at the door. It swung open, and he stepped inside. Neville didn't waste any time getting to the common room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi everyone! **

**Sorry for taking a month to update... I really don't have any good excuses for it excepf for being lazy. **

**Anyway, I won't keep you waiting any longer, here is chapter 7(:**

chapter 7: Suspicions  
Hermione was following a prefect, Penelope Clearwater, to the Ravenclaw common room when a thought suddenly struck her. Neville hadn't been at the feast, she was sure, so he didn't know about the troll! What if he ran into it? He had probably gone to the greenhouses to get some privacy and to think. She supposed that if he was going from the greenhouses to the great hall, he wouldn't be anywhere near the dungeons, but there was no one else to inform him of it, the great hall was empty, and all the teachers were dealing with the troll. She had to tell him, because she knew that she was probably the only one who actually had realised that he wasn't at the feast.

She was already the last one in the line, not wanting to be close to the other girls in her year, it would be more than easy to slip away without anyone noticing, and no one would miss her in the short time she would be gone.

To make sure that she wouldn't miss him, Hermione decided to take the slightly longer route past the great hall. When she entered, she was surprised to find that it wasn't empty like she had expected it to be. Apparently, the Slytherins had decided that the great hall was a better location than their common room, and they were all there. Not wanting to talk to the Slytherins more than necessary, she just walked through them towards the other door which eventually lead to the greenhouses.

"Hey, it's Granger, right? What are you doing here instead of in your common room?" a tall, dark first year she recognized as Zabini asked her, blocking her path. His tone was friendly, but she felt a bit cornered what with being surrounded by older Slytherins. Still, Zabini was supposed to be one of Harry's friends, so he was probably pleasant.

"Yeah, I am looking for my friend. I don't think he knows about the troll, so I'm going to tell him." she answered rather timidly. She tried to walk around Zabini, and thankfully he let her. She wasn't sure what she would have done otherwise, but she was glad that she didn't have to do it.

o

Harry stared at the corner where Quirrell had just passed. He had convinced Tracey and Theodore to help him in shadowing the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Blaise had been talking to a couple of older students, and Harry didn't have the time to fetch him, as well as having to convince him too to come with him.

Theodore had been reluctant to come with them, saying that it was dangerous, and that if they were caught being in the corridors when there was a troll on the loose they would at the very least lose points, and possible get detention too. In the end, he followed because both Tracey and Harry were going.

They had quickly caught up to Quirrel, and then they were careful to stay out of his sight as much as possible, peeking around corners as he disappeared beyond the next one. It felt really odd, stalking a teacher, but Harry knew that he was up to something, because he wasn't heading towards the dungeons at all, and there was no way he could have gotten instructions from anyone to do something else.

After a while, they heard steps behind them, and saw Hermione Granger walking quickly towards them. Harry made a hushing motion and and asked in a whisper why she wasn't in her common room. She explained that she was looking for Neville, who hadn't been in the grand hall when Quirrell had told them of the troll. Harry explained that there was something rather odd about Quirrell's behaviour, and they were following him to find out what he is up to. He didn't know why, but there was something that made him trust her even though they had only really talked in the boat to Hogwarts. Theodore looked incredulously at Harry when he told Hermione what they were doing, always believing the worst of people, he probably expected her to inform Quirrell himself right away. Harry just shrugged, trying to convey his confidence that Hermione could be trusted with his eyes.

They didn't had time to argue about it, and anyway done was done. Hermione showed no signs of wanting to report them, and Harry could see that Theodore relaxed a bit and took his hand out of his pocket (presumably, that was where he kept his wand). Hermione followed them, and nobody protested. She explained in a whisper that this was the route Neville was most likely to take, so she would have gone this way anyway. This seemed to relax Theodore further.

At last, Quirrell stopped outside a door in on the third floor that Harry instantly recognized as the one Dumbledore had warned them about in the beginning of the year. What was it he had said? Something about dieing in a most horrible fashion. This was definitely strange. Harry whispered this back to his friends as they stood, huddling around the corner while he stuck his head out to take another quick peek. He saw that Neville was coming around the opposite corner of the corridor, and whispered this news back too. Hermione looked pleased, but she didn't say anything, probably afraid that Quirrell might hear her. Even if he was up to no good, it wouldn't do to be discovered where they weren't supposed to be.

They all heard as Neville talked to the professor, and then heard as he continued along the corridor, heading straight for them. Knowing that there was nowhere to hide, they decided to tell Neville too about Quirrel. Hermione insisted that he wouldn't betray them to a teacher, and Harry knew that she was right.

o

As Neville made his way around the corner, he was surprised to see Harry, Hermione and two other Slytherin first years he quickly identified as Davies and Nott. They all held fingers to their lips, telling him silently to be quiet. Neville didn't know the reason, but didn't say a word. Harry stepped closer to him and whispered in his ear.

"We suspect that Quirrell is up to no good. That door he is entering is the door Dumbledore warned us led to certain death in the beginning of the year." Neville looked at Hermione, and the look in her eyes confirmed that she too believed it to be so.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered back, for the moment accepting Harry's words for true. He wasn't completely sure that going through a door proved that the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was up to no good, but he suspected that Harry had more evidence, why would they otherwise have followed him here?

"I don't know. Dare we follow?" Harry whispered back, though his question was meant for the entire group. Nott and Davies immediately shook their heads in unison.

"It's too risky, and pointless besides." Hermione said, closing the argument. Neville thought that they were probably right, but he would have liked to do something, not just wait around the corner for Quirrell to turn up again.

He looked towards the end of the corridor and to his horror discovered Snape striding towards them, looking condescending as usual. He didn't know what to do. There was nothing to do, because Snape had seen them, and now they were going to get detention.

"What are you doing here? The headmaster was quite clear when he told all students to return to their common rooms."Snape said, his eyes taking in each of them, then lingering on Neville. Neville knew that Snape didn't want to punish his precious Slytherins, so he would most likely try and find an excuse to let Harry Davies and Nott off the hook. It was so unfair that he was biased, and especially that he seemed to want to make Neville's life as miserable as possible.

"We were looking for Neville, sir, because we knew that he wasn't on the feast, so he didn't know about the troll. We figured that we would be safe staying in a group and away from the dungeons. We found him just now and we were just about to head back to the great hall where the other Slytherins are." Harry lied smoothly. Snape's glare fell on him.

"From what I gather, neither of you are friends with Longbottom." Snape said, indicating Nott and Davies. "Why would you be out on this... rescue mission?" he said, looking suspiciously at them. Neville thought that it would just be a matter of time before he would turn this whole thing around on him. He would make up some weird rule that the halloween feast is mandatory to attend or something like that.

"We weren't about to let Harry go with only Granger as company, sir, so we followed because we are safer in a group." Tracey filled in without missing a beat. Wow, they are really good at lying, where did they learn that? Is it one of the requirements for becoming a Slytherin? Neville thought, not wanting to see his friend as someone who could tell a lie to a teacher with a straight face, but in this case, he was grateful. Telling Snape about their suspicions about Quirrell would definitely be a bad idea.

"And why exactly weren't you at the feast, Longbottom?" He said in that slow, measured tone of voice that told Neville that he was not finished with them yet.

"I, I needed some time to think by myself, so I went to the greenhouses for some privacy. Sir." he answered, almost forgetting to add the 'sir' at the end. He knew that Snape would be angry with his if he did not add it, even though he constantly let his precious Slytherins get away with doing it. He needed to be more careful with his words. Snape seemed to think this through, probably looking for an excuse to blame everything on him, Neville thought.

Before Snape could say anything more, they heard a door open, and saw Quirrell almost falling through the door he had entered through a moment earlier. He seemed terrified, his turban was loose in places and he kept muttering to himself. When he turned around and saw the group of people looking at him, their faces ranging from suspicion to almost laughter, he made a small noise, like a squeak. Apparently, he had not expected to find himself being watched.

"You! Go back to the great hall immediately!" Snape roared, not even looking at them to see if him instructions were obeyed. He didn't need to, as none of them dared to disobey such an order when Snape was in such a foul mood. And besides, I can count myself lucky to not get any punishment Neville thought as they made their way to the great hall.

o

They all discussed what Quirrell could have been up to behind the door, and what dangers he had faced, at length after returning to the great hall. Harry was able to tell that both Neville and Hermione was slightly uncomfortable being completely surrounded by Slytherins. They didn't show any big signs of it though, and really, it was to be expected. Several older Slytherins asked what a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw was doing outside their respective common rooms, and Harry retold the story of finding Neville several times, but leaving out all details. Thankfully, none of them were hostile, just slightly suspicious and mostly curious.

After a while, Blaise joined their group, and they took turns telling him what had happened and what they suspected. He looked incredulous at first, but when they had presented him with all the facts, he finally had to agree that the facts didn't add up. There was an uncomfortable moment when Blaise revealed his inherited prejudice against muggleborns, and Neville was affronted for Hermione, but Tracey and Harry smoothed things over quickly, changing the subject to a safer topic.

Snape came back, seemingly perfectly calm, but Harry didn't think he was. He had learned that the potions master could be very good when it came to hiding emotions. They all hoped that he would make some sort of announcement, so that they would know what had happened. Snape didn't call for everyone's attention, and whatever hopes they had harboured that they might find out what had happened died quickly.

Another half hour or so had passed when the rest of the teachers came back and told them that the dungeons were safe, and they could return to their common room. Hermione and Neville bid them goodbye and went in different directions to their respective common rooms. Malfoy had regained his voice, and was complaining loudly that a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw had been told where the Slytherin common room was located, but no one listened to him. Harry thought that it didn't make that much of a difference, especially since they didn't know in which part of the dungeons it was. Besides, everyone already knew roughly where the Gryffindor and the Ravenclaw common rooms were, since they had towers named after them.

o

Over the next few days, Harry still hoped that they could somehow find out what was behind the door Quirrell had gone through, or why he would want to go through the door in the first place, since he knew it would be dangerous. Quirrell was definitely not the type of person who would face dangers for no reason. In fact, he didn't strike Harry as someone who would willingly go near danger unless it was the only thing he could do... but then again, he was the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, so he should know a thing or two about dangers.

Harry didn't have a lot of time to think about this, however, because the first quidditch game was coming up, and it was against Gryffindor. To say that everyone wanted to win was an understatement. The other three houses all wanted Gryffindor to win, because Slytherin had won the championship several years in a row now, and everyone seemed to want that to change. This of course only made the Slytherins more eager to crush Gryffindor, and thereby prove who really was the best.

Flint had ordered everyone to collect as much information as possible about the Gryffindor team, so that they would know the strengths and weaknesses of their adversaries when they were up against them. Apparently, they had Ron's twin brothers as beaters, and they were supposed to be really good; the chasers were Katie Bell, a second year that they didn't know anything about except that she was a good student, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Jonsson, both third years who had been on the team last year. The keeper and captain was Oliver Wood, a fifth year who was competent and experienced. The only real weakness was the newfound seeker, Lee Jordan. Apparently, he was a decent flyer and that was about it.

Flint booked the quidditch field as often as possible, almost every day. Harry had to plan when he would do what homework, because after the practises, he was often too tired to think of much of anything unless it was sleep.

The night before the game, Harry went to bed early to get as much sleep as possible before the game. He was more nervous than he had ever been before. He had a hard time falling asleep, and when he finally succeeded, he woke up three hours later. Finding himself wide awake, and completely unable to go back to sleep, he decided that all he needed was something really boring to make him fall asleep.

Muttering to himself, he got up from the warm shelter of his blankets and made his way to his pile of homework that had to be completed before monday. Digging up the essay on twelfth century wizards professor Binns had told them to complete, he went to the common room and started writing. It really was boring, but to Harry's great annoyance his lids refused to turn heavy.

"Hi Harry. What are you doing up at this hour?" came a familiar voice from behind. Harry turned around to find Blaise standing casually some few feet away. He was carrying a finished pile of homework.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd do something that usually has me struggling to stay awake." Harry said with a smile. Blaise smiled and took a seat next to him.

"Is it working?"

"No, it seems that the best way to not fall asleep while doing History is to wake up in the middle of the night and do it." Harry joked, not wanting to show just how troubled he was that he would be unable to fall asleep, and then he would be so tired at the game that Jordan could outfly him. Harry knew that he was Slytherin's greatest asset compared to the Gryffindor team, but it wouldn't be so if he was struggling to stay awake.

"It's okay to show that you're nervous, you know. It's human." Blaise said softly, looking intensely at Harry. Harry realised in that moment that he could trust Blaise not to pass on anything he said, and to help support him if he needed it.

"I... It's just... well everyone's expecting me to catch the snitch. If I don't I will have failed the entire house. and dad, and Sirius... everyone! But what's more is that if I catch the snitch, it won't be a big deal, because Jordan is such a bad seeker." Harry blurted out. He didn't want to look at Blaise, so he looked at his own feet instead.

"The reason that everyone thinks you will catch the snitch is because they've seen you fly, Harry. You have already proven that when you made the team, even though you are a first year. That hasn't happened in centuries. I'm sure you dad's already proud of you." Blaise said with conviction. Harry looked at him, and saw that he really did believe in what he had said. It was comforting to imagine that everyone would think he was alright even if things didn't go his way.

"And besides, if you're nervous, just imagine how nervous Jordan must be. He is two years older than you, so people will expect him to catch the snitch before you, but you are definitely the better in the air, and that's what matters. You can do it, you can catch the snitch."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you'll do it next time."

"You make it seem so easy. It's not."

"No I don't think it'll be easy, but I _do_ think you can do it."

o

Neville couldn't stop thinking about the Quirrell incident for several days. He would bring it up with Hermione every time they were alone outside a classroom, waiting for the rest of the class to show up. Before they had gone their separate ways on halloween, they had all agreed not to tell anyone about it. THey were sure that Snape would find some way to punish them if it became general knowledge in the school that Quirrell had forced his way into a restricted area, and almost got killed in the process.

Neville knew that Hermione wasn't thrilled about the fact that their conversations centered around the incident, but Neville didn't understand how she could just let it go. He wanted to find out what had happened, or at least know that Snape handled the situation,so it won't happen again. It was odd to think of Snape as the one who would stop a potential bad guy, because as far as Neville was concerned, he was a bad guy himself.

"Neville, you need to stop obsessing over this," Hermione told him when they were standing outside the Transfigurations classroom. "It's not healthy, and I'm sure that Snape figured out what was going on and put a stop to it. He is very good at that, you know. I know that he is unpleasant to say the least, but in this case, that should work to his and by extension our benefit. There's nothing to worry about." she told him.

After that, Neville tried to put away all those thoughts, but they just wouldn't leave him alone. There was something that didn't make any sense, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He had a feeling that Snape hadn't been able to find out what had happened either, and that worried him greatly. Snape was worse than ever to him during the Potions lessons, and Neville speculated that it was because he was angry about not getting Quirrell to talk. Neville was just someone to vent the anger on without it being too suspicious. Just the dummy to hit to make you feel better, and of course, no one cares what the dummy feels.

**Ok, so it wasn't very long and I'm sorry. I will update before christmas, but I can't promiss anything sooner (but I'll try...) I have to figure out what I want with this story before it gets too far. So yeah, I hope you enjoyed reading and and thanks for bearing with me even when I'm slow... **


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